


Making Up For Lost Time

by FeartheTalon, LightRain_09



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars: Rebels, Star Wars: Thrawn - Timothy Zahn
Genre: Anal Sex, Chiss Babies, Chiss Grandbabies, Copious amounts of space lysol, Domestic Bliss, Double Penetration, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Family Feels, Fluff, Healthy Relationships, Kids spilling things, M/M, Masturbation, Meddling Kids, Miscommunication, Multi, Older Characters, Oral Sex, Polyamory, Romance, Sexual Roleplay, Smut, Threesome - F/M/M, Vaginal Sex, mom porn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-22
Updated: 2018-12-25
Packaged: 2019-04-26 05:03:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 33,814
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14394876
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FeartheTalon/pseuds/FeartheTalon, https://archiveofourown.org/users/LightRain_09/pseuds/LightRain_09
Summary: As a favor to his friend, Eli Vanto has dedicated the rest of life to serving the Chiss. When Mitth'raw'nuruodo arranges for a very special instructor to train Eli in the culture and language of his people, he soon discovers that Eli's education lacks certain vital information, and that it is his responsibility to aid in his instruction.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This started out as a simply "What if?" brainstorming activity for crack/fluff/porn fic, which, after many late night conversations, turned into something more. We had a ton of fun coming up with this story. We both hope you all enjoy.

Eli’s eyes burned. Words ran together in his head, disintegrating into a tangled mush of garbled sounds, guttural utterances, and far too many consonants. Learning Cheunh made Eli Vanto feel like a child. Due to his trade upbringing he usually had no problem with languages- he spoke four fluently- but the Chiss language was unusually unwieldy. Today, he sat at the dining room table with a bunch of holocards spread before him. They were going over vocabulary.

He sighed and slammed his face into his palms. “This is horrible.”

“Nonsense. You’re progressing wonderfully,” Mitth’ella’nuruodo countered. She placed a hand on his shoulder and squeezed. “Cheunh is purposefully difficult even for Chiss.”

Eli appreciated every bit of Hellan’s unflagging support. Even though he couldn’t correctly pronounce her name, he had been able to determine that she shared the same surname and minor clan name as Thrawn. Thrawn had once mentioned in passing that he had been adopted, and Eli supposed he had been adopted into her family. They certainly didn’t share any genes; they looked nothing alike. Where Thrawn was tall and angular, Hellan was even shorter than Eli, with round, generous features, and a plush body that came from giving birth to eleven children. Eleven children that she constantly prattled about.

“I wish we could do another cooking lecture,” Eli said. “That was fun.” 

Hellan had taken to teaching him names and preparations for common Chiss foods. The usefulness of the information and the hands-on instruction helped soothe his nerves. Eli also discovered that the dishes Hellan produced were simply magical. Her husband, whom she always spoke of with a dreamy, glazed expression, was a lucky man.

The fine lines in the corners of Hellan’s eyes crinkled as a smile lit up her face. “I would, but you’ll ruin your appetite for dinner.”

Eli laughed. “It’s not like we’re expecting anyone.”

“Actually, today we are.”

Eli sat up straighter. From what Ar’alani had told him he had thought he still had a few weeks to go until he was expected on Csilla. “Someone is coming?” 

“Thrawn has been able to garner a bit of leave before heading to some planet called Lothal and insisted in coming and checking on your progress. I told him you were making out just fine, but you know how he is, he has to see everything for himself. That man sometimes. Honestly.”

She rolled her eyes in faux annoyance. The two of them must be very close. The fact that she was tutoring Eli as a favor to Thrawn, a favor that took her away from her family, spoke highly of her affection towards him.  

Eli remembered the last time he had seen Thrawn, remembered the brief clasp of their hands, the barest skim of his fingers across the blue skin of Thrawn’s wrist. Not at all what Eli had wanted, but he had learned to dampen those desires long ago. His resolve had only solidified in the presence of Thrawn’s detached demeanor and in the knowledge that handshake had signified goodbye, possibly for forever.

Instead of an eternity, their reunion would occur after only a few scant weeks of separation. Thrawn had left him his journal. Called Eli his friend. If he was able to come here, to this forested planet on the edges of Chiss space during leave, perhaps they could meet occasionally? Perhaps… Perhaps Eli could work up the nerve to reveal the feelings that he had never voiced.

She patted his arm. “I’m going to take care of dinner. Keep going. You’ve got this.” 

_ Dinner. _ Thrawn would be here soon. 

Eli bent over the holo cards again, trying to concentrate, but the foreign words were even more elusive than before.  _ Thrawn is coming _ . It repeated like a litany in his head. 

The minutes slid by like thick syrup, one into the next. He didn’t realize he was listening for it until he heard it: the familiar roar of ship engines making a descent.

Eli shoved his chair back, scraping the legs against the floor.  He forced himself to keep his pace slow and even as he made his way through the house towards the front door. 

By the time he arrived outside, the ship had landed in the clearing near the house and the engines were powering down. Eli stopped at the edge of the clearing. Clasped his hands behind him. Moved them to the front. And finally settled for crossing his arms loosely over his chest.

The door decompressed with a hiss.  Eli’s breath seemed to catch in his chest until the ramp settled on the ground with a soft thud and then there he was. Immaculate as ever. Exactly as Eli remembered.

_ Of course he is, idiot,  _ he thought.  _ It’s only been a few weeks. _

Thrawn glided down the ramp toward him, red eyes fixed on his. Eli stepped forward to meet him part way, reaching out his hand to clasp Thrawn’s arm and trying to ignore the rush of warmth that ran through him at the feel of those long, powerful fingers curling around his wrist.

“It is good to see you Commander Vanto,” he said in Cheunh.

Eli grinned. “Greetings Mitth’raw’nuruodo,” he replied. The words weren’t nearly as smooth as Thrawn’s, but at least he didn’t trip over the strange rhythm of it. “Although, I guess I’m not a commander anymore, so Eli will work for now.”

Thrawn’s lips tugged up at one corner the way they did when he was pleased. “You seem to have acquitted yourself well…. Eli. Although we will have to work on altering your name to comply with----” 

Thrawn broke off. His red eyes flicked over Eli’s shoulder and stuck on something there. Even his body canted slightly in the direction of the house before he caught himself, a look Eli couldn’t fathom on his face. A brief flash of ridiculous concern went through Eli, quickly replaced with amusement. He had never seen Thrawn struck dumb before, but apparently there was a first time for everything.

Though what could possibly have caught his attention here was beyond him. 

Eli glanced behind him. Hellan stood there in the open doorway, an apron tied over her dress. She held her hands clasped in front of her. A huge beaming smile suffused her face. 

Thrawn crossed the space faster than Eli had ever seen him move outside a training exercise. He swung Hellan into his arms and fused his mouth to hers as if she was the last drop of water on Tatooine. 

Eli’s jaw unhinged. “I thought you had a sweet and loving husband!” 

Thrawn reluctantly detached his lips from Hellan’s. He slowly turned his glowing eyes to fix on Eli. “Are you implying that I do not give my wife the affection she deserves?”

_ Wife. Mother of eleven children. Eleven children. Thrawn has eleven children _ . Eli imagined eleven tiny Thrawns running around the galaxy and shuddered in horror.  _ He’s married? Married…. Oh. _

No wonder he had never even glanced in Eli’s direction.

Hellan patted Thrawn’s chest. “Oh love, stop teasing him.” 

“You… You never mentioned you were married.”

Hellan’s brow furrowed in concern. She almost left Thrawn’s side to go to Eli, but Thrawn tightened his hold. 

“Oh, I thought you knew.” She looked up into Thrawn’s face. “Did you forget to tell him, love? You're always doing that. We can't see inside your head you know.”

“I thought it was immediately apparent,” Thrawn said with a slightly troubled expression.

Hellan's eyes flickered from Thrawn to Eli then back to Thrawn again. “Come on. You must be starving. I made your favorite. They don’t feed you anything decent on those starships.”

She led them back into the dining room. Eli trailed behind, suddenly feeling distinctly awkward. Back inside the table was already set and Thrawn chose a seat without hesitation, eyes already darting towards the kitchen. Eli lingered at the edge of the room. He seriously considered excusing himself.

“Go ahead. Take a seat Eli, dear,” Hellan said, gesturing towards the seat next to Thrawn. “I’m going to serve tonight.”

“Now, there is a new concept,” Thrawn murmured seemingly to himself.

Hellan snickered and swatted him on the shoulder. Thrawn grabbed her hand before she could snatch it away and kissed her palm.

“Tell me about the children,” he said as she slipped her hand from his and crossed to the sideboard to get drinks.

Eli slid reluctantly into his seat. His mind couldn’t let go of that one.  _ Children. Thrawn had children. _

Thrawn’s eyes did not leave her as she buzzed around the room. His fixation appalled Eli. He had never thought Thrawn capable of romantic feelings for anyone, but if Eli had thought him capable of experiencing attraction he suspected it would have been for a severe, military type, or perhaps someone poised and sophisticated. Not a disheveled housewife with frizzy hair who charmed everyone with freshly baked cookies and a soft smile.

“Thomasin has started formal courtship with a nice young Cspala of all things,” Hellan said.

“Will she take their name?”

“It’s a higher rank for her. It’s possible,” Hellan replied as she poured Eli some wine.

Thrawn frowned.

Hellan reached for his glass and filled it, noting Thrawn’s expression. “I don’t care. The sooner they settle, the sooner I get my grandbabies. We need to catch up to Thrass.”

“Cspala grandbabies,” Thrawn grumbled.

“Hmm, Holman made senior lieutenant.”

“It’s about time they recognized his worth. What about Thaylin? She just came of age. What did she choose?”

A smile twitched across Hellan’s face. “Artist,” she proclaimed.

Thrawn smiled, not one of the small, devious smiles Eli was accustomed to, but an eruption of joy. “Excellent.”

“I know you were hoping for it.”

“She has always made me exceedingly proud.”   

Hellan glanced at Eli and raised her eyebrows. Eli knew parents were not supposed to have favorites, but apparently Thrawn had ignored that rule.

“She must be really good then,” Eli said.

“Her work is superb. Before she came of age, she already had a showing of her very own. Her use of color speaks of a powerful independent spirit, and her linework is sharp and focused.”

“Sounds like she takes after her father.”

“Indeed,” replied Thrawn, pleased.

Hellan swooped around them the rest of the meal, chattering about how one of their sons had won some science award or the achievements of their youngest who had just mastered four symbol words. When it had been just her and Eli she had let them serve themselves. So what was she doing flittering about now? As the evening wore on, Eli noticed how her fingers trailed across the back of Thrawn’s neck as she passed by his chair, or the way her breasts brushed against Thrawn’s arm as she refilled his drink. Thrawn seemed immune to these gestures. Was there something Eli wasn’t seeing?

Finally, she said, “Let me go grab dessert.”

Thrawn grabbed her wrist. His eyes meandered down the length of Hellan’s body. “There is no need for that.” Both Eli and Hellan were transfixed by the soft, dangerous tone of his voice. The heat that rose between the couple made Eli’s face blaze red as well. 

Thrawn stood and briefly turned to Eli. “Excuse us,” he said with a slight bow of his head. Without another word, he turned back to his wife and flung her effortlessly over his shoulder. Her giggling echoed through the house as Thrawn made his way down the hall, back towards the sleeping quarters.

 

* * *

 

Thrawn had admired many pieces of art in his life, but to his eyes, there was nothing more beautiful than his wife, sprawled, satiated in their bed, her skin illuminated by the moonlight streaming in through the nearby open window.

His head lay pillowed on the softness of her stomach, where his fingers traced silver lines, lines of battle, lines that spoke of the creation of eleven living works of art. He knew she hoped they had started another tonight. Her fertile years were quickly coming to a close, and Hellan loved carrying life inside her. Although it would sometimes keep her away if his leave coincided with the later stages, Thrawn had to admit he loved it too. Pregnancy ignited her in an infrared glow.

Her hand stroked his hair, her fingertips curled around the shell of his ear. The ephemeral nature of their meetings made him treasure these moments of peace all the more. It forced them to waste no time in loving and being loved. If not that, the beginning of their official courtship had taught that concept to both of them.

“What Eli has been telling me about the Empire, Love, terrifies me,” she whispered into the stillness of the room.

Had Eli told her about the Rebellion? About Batonn? The Death Star, perhaps? Thrawn turned his head to look at her. Hellan did not appear fearful; her face displayed the same expression when one of their children came back with an unsuccessful score on an evaluation. He closed his eyes and huffed against her belly. His wife was a master of hyperbole.

“What in particular, my Heart?”

“It seems like a horrid place. From what I gather they know nothing of contraception. Their elders do not even teach the young ones how to please their partners!”

One could argue they had chosen to ignore any knowledge of contraception as well. He offered her a small amused smile. “And this is what troubles you?”

“Of course that’s what worries me. I don’t think he’s had anyone special, and now you’re sending him off to our home, a stranger to our customs. What if he gets lonely? He won’t have any idea of what to do.”  

_ Did Eli have anyone special? _ Thrawn was unsure. He had never given the subject much thought. Eli seemed too soft hearted and idealistic to be the type to abandon a loved one to duty, particularly a duty not his own, but hadn’t he and Hellan settled for their current arrangement for the good of their people? Thrawn wasn’t even sure how he would go about confirming such a topic. One thing was certain, Eli would be spending the rest of his life in Chiss space. His options for companionship were limited. If Eli’s knowledge and experience was also limited, it would be a major detriment to his happiness.

And Thrawn wanted the one friend he had to be happy.

“He is your responsibility, Love,” Hellan added.

“You would be willing?” Thrawn asked.

“He’s a nice young man.”

_ Yes, then. _

Hellan’s eyes glittered. She made a small delicious sound. The hand on his head pushed down slightly. “I think it might be a good idea to refresh your memory… for teaching purposes, of course.”

_ Insatiable woman. _ Thrawn’s lips curled against her hip, then moved lower, acquiescing to the desires of her entreating hand. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hellan and Thrawn's first meeting starring a 25 year old Thrawn... All of the arrogance, but none of the refinement. God help us all.

 

**37 BBY:**

Thrass gripped his desk so tightly his knuckles glowed grey. “Please explain to me how, exactly, you managed to insult Syndic Mitth'sin'hitonu’s son so severely that he ran out of an art museum in tears.”

Raw looked his older brother straight in the eye. “He was the most banal person I have ever met. You claimed he was an artist.”

Thrass’ eyes slid shut, the muscles in his jaw twitching. “It said that he aspired to be an artist in his file.”

“Apparently your information was incorrect. The only thing he aspired to was idiocy. I saw his sketchbook, if one could call it that. His work was derivative, without any knowledge of the references he was pulling from.”

Thrass ran a hand through his hair, uncaring that the blue-black strands stuck out at all angles. “You can’t keep doing this, Raw. The more people you upset, and you’ve upset some high-ranking people, the less prospects you’ll have.”

“The ones The Family have referred are all ts’khruf without an iota of interest to tempt me.”

“You don’t have to be tempted. You just have to be practical.”

“You are suggesting that I marry for convenience only.”

“Yes.”

“Did you?”

“That was--- That was different.”

It was apparent to Raw what was different. Him. His older brother enchanted others with his taste, sophistication, and wit. When Thrass had set his sights on his spouse, even as one as highly ranked as the son of the Safis Aristocra, they had not stood a chance against his onslaught of charm. Raw, on the other hand, had always been an outsider. He supposed he was considered handsome enough, and certainly more intelligent than anyone of his acquaintance, but he lacked the patience for most of the pleasantries that characterized social engagement among the upper classes.

Those social graces required effort and thought from Raw. Sometimes even preparation. He performed better if the conversation was at least stimulating, but he wasn’t good at hiding his disinterest in a topic, and that disinterest often made him… overly forthcoming… was the way Thrass had put it once. His tolerance for ignorance in others was even worse.

And then there was the matter of his ambition. He had learned early that there was a difference between his ambitions and the ambitions of everyone else, namely that while others were content to continue functioning within the system as it existed, Raw was not. He always wanted to do more. Learn more. Be more. His fascination with things outside of Chiss space had gotten him reprimanded on more than one occasion.

Raw grimaced. He had been about to tell Thrass that he was trying, but the truth was that his efforts had been mediocre at best. And now his brother seemed close to giving up.   

Thrass’ shoulders sagged. His brother was ruthless in the political arena, brilliant and implacable, and feared by those less skilled in debate, or so Raw had heard. Few knew the kind-hearted part of him like Raw did. Although his generous nature did tend to be accompanied by lots of sighing and a healthy dose of sarcasm.

“Pick one then,” Raw said.

“Look, I didn’t mean--- I’m just afraid for you. Every time you go out to who knows where I...” Thrass trailed off, but the unspoken words rang through Raw’s mind.

If he was injured severely enough that he was discharged from the CEDF, or if he was court marshalled- which was frankly much more likely- he would return to commoner status, and all of his brother’s years of hard work and sacrifice would be for naught.

“Pick one,” Raw repeated.

Thrass sighed. “All right. There’s one I think that might work.”

“What is wrong with them?”

Thrass winced. Then decided, for once, against complete obfuscation. “You’d have to really be horrible to mess this up. The girl is desperate.”

“How so?”

“She’s an orphan for one. Her parents lost their lives in an accident almost two years ago. There were debts, other issues. She was left destitute…”

“And?”

Thrass shook his head. “She has five younger siblings, none of which are coming of age anytime soon. She was offered the opportunity to give the younger ones up for formal adoption but refused.”

“Five,” Raw repeated. He looked up and caught his brother’s stare. He knew that they were recalling the same memories: nights bundled together in a rickety cot with barely any heat, rats nibbling at bare, blue toes, spoiled food exchanged for their ration tickets because they had no further bribes to offer. He could hardly imagine the struggle with five. Even though she had the privilege of a Family name, they couldn’t be giving her much more than subsistence. Living in one of the Ruling Families without any influence and depending entirely on their aid would just make her fresh meat to scavenge. To raise five children in such conditions would take strength, dedication, loyalty, and a stubbornness to rival his own.

All qualities beneficial in a life partner.

Thrass had mentioned convenience. He would receive her name, permanent status in the Family, and the ability to rise within it. She would get some income, perhaps even a buffer against being used as a political tool. It seemed simple enough. He was in the military and wouldn’t be around much anyway. So as long they were amenable to one another it might work.

“There’s also the fact that she’s---”

“Arrange for a meeting.”

“What?”

“I will meet the girl.”

“Are you sure?”

“Absolutely,” he said with finality. “We can attend the newest exhibition at the art museum.”

“No, Raw,” his brother said quickly, eyes resolute. “Not this time. No one has ever made it past the art museum. If you’re going to go through with this, let’s try something different.”

“Such as?”

“Perhaps she should choose.”

* * *

 

 

The dew clinging to the grass glittered in the late morning sun. A slight breeze ruffled the palm fronds above him and kept the heat subdued. Raw would have much rather preferred the art museum. There was a reason he scheduled all his first encounters there. Entering a situation without preparation unnerved him; Raw could usually determine a person's worth from the pieces they were drawn to.

Raw tightened his grip on his electrobinoculars. His reconnaissance so far had been ineffective. He knew almost nothing about Mitth’ella’nuruodo. In fact, he wouldn't have been able to identify her at all if she hadn't been surrounded by five children who all sat at a park table, scribbling on pieces of paper. Drawing in a park seemed odd. Interesting, but odd. She, on the other hand, was always in motion. She rippled around the children, arching forward to help with some small thing, then rolling back to restore their autonomy.

He had to make it through at least this outing, and perhaps another. Thrass believed that only someone of Raw’s caliber was capable of messing this up; he needed to prove his brother wrong. It was simply another challenge. It helped to think of it like that. Raw had never come across a challenge that wouldn't succumb to his skill and mind.

He tapped a button and the lenses focused on his target. His potential wife was a small collection of curves, which made her seem soft and pliant, but from the few things Thrass discussed the other day, Raw was certain it was just camouflage. This was a woman made of the roundness of ocean waves, unceasing, indomitable. Her mottled skin reminded him of sunlight on clear water, but her wild hair reflected the color and violence of a sea storm.

He ticked over the children. They were all under twelve. The youngest, still a toddler, slapped his paint covered palms happily against the table as the eldest cheered him on. At the other end of the table, two girls gestured excitedly at each other, their bodies tense **.** Mitth’ella’nuruodo looked up from where she crouched next to the remaining boy and snapped a command. The girls fell silent. Immediately, her face softened and she spoke to them at length in what he assumed to be a calmer tone. With an authoritative nod, she stood and held out her hands for the toddler, slung a bag over her shoulders, and walked off towards the refreshers.

He set his electrobinoculars aside. Raw knew exceptional leadership when he saw it. She presided over the children like an admiral, demanding obedience but commanding respect.

They had not even exchanged pleasantries, and she already had earned Raw’s regard. Thrass would be pleased. Now, he had to ensure that she agreed to another outing. He would have to plan his strategy well. Ingratiating himself through the children was the most obvious approach. _Hmm, what would be the best way to go about…_

“Um, excuse me sir. Can I ask you a question?”

Raw snapped out of his reverie. In front of him stood the two girls who had been arguing earlier. It was the elder one, a girl of around nine who had spoken.

“You have a problem? What assistance can I provide?”

“We were making kites. My little sister says that mine is not Arrow dymicry sound,” she wrinkled her nose. “I don’t even think that’s a word.”

She lifted up the paper kite and held it towards him.

He took it from her, running his fingers along one edge. “I believe your sister was trying to say aerodynamically sound.”

“Ha!” The younger one exclaimed. Her words lisped heavily through the gaps of her missing teeth. “Told you it was a thing.”

The older girl shot her sister a scathing look then continued, looking concerned. “You seem like you know stuff about things. Can my kite fly?”   

“Your kite is beautiful,” Raw said. He traced carefully over the painted design, following the girl’s sharp lines. “Amazing use of color. I particularly am fascinated by the stylized shooting star motif. It is very well drawn. Does it have any symbolic meaning?”

The girl shrugged. “I just thought it looked cool.”

The design was too practiced for it to be thoughtlessly added, and the placement was too prominent for it simply to be casual design, but he held his tongue. Instead he turned the kite over in his hands.

“As it is, this kite will not fly, but it can be fixed.”

“How can we fix it?” The younger one asked. “Our sister gave us this.” She handed him a crumpled piece of paper from out of her pocket. “But we don’t know what it means.”

Raw momentarily examined the free-body diagram sketched on the paper, and gave the girls a small smile as he set it aside. “There are different forces that work on a kite when it is in the sky. There is gravity, which you might know about, and also a force called lift which pushes the kite in the air. There are also forces that move the kite back and forth.” Raw circled the kite in the air to illustrate his point.

“In order for the kite to fly properly, and not spin and fall, _all the forces must be_ _balanced_.” He looked at both the girls as he explained to make sure they were following him. The younger one’s face was rapt as he spoke. “The tension of the string is used to stabilize the kite and must be attached at the proper angle and positions... Again, balance is key.”

“You’re saying that we have to make it exactly symmetric,” the older one said.

Raw nodded, pleased at her comprehension. “Yes.”

The older one scrunched up her face. “I think I have it. What do you think Oba?”

“Yeah,” the little one said. “We could do it. Easy peasy.”

The children worked together to solve problems, even ones that started as arguments between them. They were able to grasp concepts when explained to them simply, and did not assume he would fix their difficulties for them, but instead asked for his input so they could do it themselves. As they ran back to their siblings, he marveled at the girls’ intelligence, and wondered even more about the woman who had taught them to face the world in this way.

* * *

 

 

He wasn't coming. 

It didn't strike Hellan as a surprise. Of the few suitors her family assigned to her, only one had ever shown, and he had turned tail once he had seen her company. The rest had offered a polite no once they had seen her holo. 

This one had said yes and hadn't bothered to show up at all. A waste of her time, considering she had a business to run, and bad manners to boot.

The kids were having fun at least. It was nice to get them out running around in a green space away from recirculated air. For the past two years they had spent most of their time cramped like sarfish in her can of a ship. Hellan wished she could have offered them a better life, a stable life, but she could only carve her future from what fate had dealt her. 

She had hoped a partner would help with that. 

Childish dreams of love had been dismissed once she had emerged from adolescence without a single attribute that could be considered desirable. The hopes of finishing her education or a high-ranking marriage had been destroyed when her parents had died, shattering any political clout she may have potentially wielded and leaving her with a meager subsistence provided by the Family. Her only options were a merit-adoptive trying to worm their way up the influence ladder or someone so reprehensible she would rather dive beneath the icy lakes of Csilla than let them near her brothers and sisters. 

Hellan wasn't without standards. She would settle for a hard-working partnership based on mutual respect, and financial support and decency for her siblings. So, merit-adoptive it was. 

Apparently, he wasn't that desperate.

Hellan sighed. Perhaps it was for the best. He had been rumored to have turned down his past eighteen matches and chased away almost the same amount. His headshot had been pleasant enough, a high carved brow, angular cheekbones, and a long aristocra worthy nose. He was the youngest person ever to be named commander in the CEDF. His brother, Mitth'ras'safis, had achieved both Syndic and Ranking Distant, almost unheard of in merit-adoptives, within a few years of his marriage. Obviously, his incorporation into the Family would contribute worthy genes to the Mitth pool; she wondered how much of an ass he must be that people ran from him.

Hellan hoisted Api into her arms and stood. Her nine-year old sister Elena had adopted the bored slouch that hinted that she would start acting out if something interesting didn't happen soon. It was time to head out. But first, she had promised the kids ice cream. 

They cheered at her announcement. It took Hellan a minute to get them settled into some semblance of order, then marched them to the vendor. They ordered their ice cream politely, even little Api had managed a whispered "peez" and "sanku" before burying his face, as well as his cone, into her hair.

She started to fumble in her pouch for some credits when an arm reached over her shoulder, handed credits to the vendor, and murmured, "Allow me."

"That's gracious of you, but I can't possibly----" She turned and looked up… and up some more.

Oh. _Oh no_ . He was better looking than his holo. _Much_ better looking.

Commander Mitth'raw of the Chiss Expansionary Defense Force had the body of a warrior out of the old myths. He dwarfed her with his height and the breadth of his shoulders. Every bit of him spoke of polish. His blue-black hair was painstakingly arranged, his clothing crisp and immaculate. Next to him, with her grass stained trousers and ice cream streaked hair, she appeared dumpy and frazzled. 

A small smile graced his pink-grey lips. "I insist. Consider it an apology for my tardiness if you wish."

Damn it, even his voice was mesmerizing.

“Hey! You’re the man from before!” Elena exclaimed.

“What man?” Hellan said sharply.

“The man who helped with my kite!”

She raised an eyebrow at him. “Tardiness, huh?”

“My apologies. I had to... take a comm from my superiors.”

“You had to take a comm from your superiors… I see. Did Ar’ukshi call you himself? Do you need to go? Is there an impending attack we’re all unaware of?”

“While there are many enemies of our people on the fringes of our territory, and we are always under threat of an impending attack, the matter was not pressing enough to necessitate my departure,” he answered with what appeared to be total earnestness.

 _Well, credit given for dedication_. As strange as his explanation was, at least he was here. It seemed they would be staying at the park for a while longer.

"Would you care to walk?" She asked.

"Yes, of course. One moment if you don't mind."

He quickly ordered a cone for himself from the vendor and paid him. He turned to her and nodded.

"Alright everyone, move out," she ordered. 

The kids skipped ahead happily, chatting and eating their ice cream as she kept pace with him. For someone with such long legs, he walked rather slowly.

Mitth’raw narrowed his eyes at her. “You’re not eating. Do you not enjoy sweets?”

Money aside, there was no way in hell she was going to eat in front of him. Hellan had always been plump. Growing up in the Mitth family house, every meal had been a spectator sport. She had constantly been belittled with comments about how and what and when she was eating. As an adult, she was perpetually aware of the stares and whispered laughter of the people around her. Now she was walking beside a man made out of chiseled ice. He probably counted each and every calorie that went into his body.  

"You paid for the kids. It's more than enough. Besides, if this one has his way," she jostled the little one on her hip, "I won't want to see another ice cream cone for a while. I’ll eat some of his if I get hungry."

"You should not deprive him of his reward. You can share mine."

“No thanks, I’m fine. Really.”

He made a little humming sound and held out his cone. “Would you hold this for me for a second? I need to fix my boots.”

She wrinkled her nose. “All right, let me just put him down--- What are you---?”

Before she knew he had scooped up Api in his arms and deposited his own cone in her hands.

“Eat,” he instructed with a victorious expression.

Hellan shook her head in amusement and licked the cone. A tangy berry flavor tempered the sweetness of the cream; it felt cool and refreshing on her tongue. She found herself grinning. Api, in Mitth’raw’s arms smiled back at her. His chubby arm held out his ice cream to Mitth’raw.

“Ah, thank you for offering,” he said bending his head to take a small bite.

This was so surreal. He treated the kids as a natural part of their outing.  Perhaps the children were too busy enjoying their treats, but they didn’t seem to mind him either. Even Api, who normally clung to her, seemed content where he was.

"So, you’re in the military." Not exactly the best start but at least it wasn’t some story about taking a comm _._

"Yes, I'm a Commander in the CEDF."

Elena’s head nearly snapped off as she turned to him. Her pigtails slapped against her face. "You're in the CEDF? Are you like Captain Starkiller? Do you get to fly cool ships? I’m soooo gonna do that when I grow up.“

"Elena, calm down." Captain Starkiller was her new favorite holo movie. If Hellan didn’t control this now, they’d be watching it on a loop for the next twelve cycles.

Mitth’raw didn’t seem to mind. He answered her sister patiently. “Being in the CEDF is a serious commitment but fulfilling. We have more procedures to follow than Captain Starkiller.” His lips twitched. "But yes, I do get to fly cool ships."

"Whoa." Elena’s eyes went wide. "I have a model of a clawcraft that I'm building at home. Hellan helps me with all my models. You should come see them some time."

“I would enjoy that. I, myself build space battle dioramas in my spare time. Thank you for the invitation Ms… We have spoken twice today, but haven’t been properly introduced.” He sketched a small bow to Elena, his hand rolling with a slight flourish, and then glanced pointedly at Hellan **.**

“Can we do that? Make a diorama thingy?” Elena asked her. “That would take a lot of ship models, right?”

Hellan stroked her sister’s hair. “This is Mitth’elena’nuruodo. If you have not already determined, she wants to be a clawcraft pilot. Elena this is Commander Mitth'raw."

Alir, who had been keeping watch over their younger siblings, stopped and narrowed their eyes at Mitth’raw. "You're trial born. Are you trying to hit on our sister so she'll marry you?"

"Mitth'alir'nuruodo!!!"

"I am ascertaining if that is a possibility acceptable to both of us---." Mitth’raw answered honestly.

Yuri, who sparkled as if he had poured an entire bottle of glitter over himself, chose this moment as a perfect time to speak up. "Hellan would make a really good wife. She makes the best cake."

"Really? I shall have to try some of this cake you speak so highly of, before I truly make up my mind."

“I’ll help her, so it comes out really good,” her younger brother continued.

Hellan rubbed her face with her hand. She looked up to the sky and cursed the ways of children and the men who humored them.

"I have been introduced to one of you. It is impolite to not be introduced to the rest of you."

Hellan introduced her siblings, pausing between them as he offered them each a small, courteous bow.

Finally, Mitth’raw looked at Api in his arms “And what is your name, young man?”

Api did not answer, but instead burrowed his chocolate smeared face into Mitth’raw’s shoulder.

The kids were a mess, and now, thanks to her little brother, even Mitth’raw had joined their ranks.

Hellan hustled the kids to a bench in the shade. Crouching, she rummaged through her bag and whipped out the cleansing cloths. She passed a couple out to the older children, then grabbed another and got to work scrubbing Oba’s face. Mitth’raw helped himself to one and started cleaning off Api.

She looked up at him.  "Do you have any siblings?" She knew his older brother by reputation, but he seemed to do well with the children. Did he have younger siblings as well?

“Yes, an older brother. He played much the same role in my life as you do for these children. Our parents died shortly after he came of age. I was much younger and he raised me."

Hellan paused. What had the boy, Raw, been like? Had he vibrated with Elena’s intensity? Been as curious as Oba? She could see Yuri’s flair and even a bit of the hesitance Api displayed. Now, as a man she could see the calm, straightforward demeanor that Alir was now just starting to exhibit. Did that boy still exist somewhere under all that perfect hair and gravitas?

"No younger siblings? You're very good with Api.”

"Ah, I am a very proud uncle to two nephews. I have learned a lot in the past six years."

"Oh! You could bring them with you next time."

"So we are agreeing on a next time. Excellent. I was hoping you would."

"I---" Well technically, she had agreed to it, hadn’t she?

He seemed to sense her reticence. "If you do not think this would work, tell me directly. I do not know about you, but I am enjoying our outing. I think the children are as well."

He included the children without hesitation. He understood that they would be part of this, and that their approval was just as important, if not more so than her own. Even with their rough start and his strange behavior, there was already an ease to their interactions, something that felt natural in the way they moved together.  There was no way with his looks that he’d even look at her romantically, but perhaps a match based on friendship might work.

He put Api down and sat down on the bench so he was closer to her level. "The choice is yours. You already belong to a family. I am a commoner who is trial born. Although it might be helpful for you to marry or perhaps you desire it, it is not necessary. My brother has worked very hard for us and has risen very far. He wants me to become a merit adoptive. I owe him at least my best effort."

His brother’s opinion, his family, was important to him too.

She took a clean wipe and rubbed it across his shoulder erasing the stain. He didn’t flinch or grimace in disgust. Instead, he glanced at her hand out of the corner of his eye. He placed his fingers over hers and slid them up over the bare skin of his neck.

“I think there’s some here, correct? It’s rather sticky.”

She laughed, then caught herself as his eyes widened with surprise. _Idiot._ Proper Chiss didn’t laugh. Perhaps a small chuckle hidden behind a hand if one was feeling excessive, but never giggling. _Great Hellan, you’ve gone and wrecked it._

She slowly retreated.

“Thank you,” he said simply. He then surprised her by reaching over and wiping a smudge off her forehead.

He turned his head and she followed his gaze. Except for Api, who sat at their feet, the kids were within eyesight, playing what looked to be tag. How many more opportunities could she give them if she weren't alone? How much pressure would it take off of her if she had someone to share responsibility with?

Raw spoke. “There are still plenty of hours of daylight, and there seems to be a good breeze. I could teach them how to properly put those kites to use.”

She didn’t bother to tell him that she already had explained the mechanics of kite flight. Instead, she stood and held out her hand.  "Yes, it does look like a good breeze.”

He bent and picked up her little brother, then folded his free hand over hers. He followed her into the sunlight towards the laughter of children and the small spark of a future.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter features Eli the Grouch in his first ever sex ed lecture. While reading just imagine all the faces he makes in the Thrawn comic. 
> 
> Mind the rating for this chapter.

 

Thin morning sunlight slanted in through the window much too early. Eli threw his arm across his eyes and groaned. He felt as if he were reliving those first days at Royal Imperial, when all he had wanted to do was pull the blankets over his head, go back to sleep, and ignore the fact that his world had been turned upside down.

Instead, he swung his legs over the edge of the bed and sat up, pressing his fingers to his head. Even if his mind hadn’t been racing, he wouldn’t have gotten much sleep anyway. He had hoped Hellan and Thrawn might give some thought to the fact that they weren’t in this house alone. _Apparently not._

For a moment, he considered staying where he was. He wasn’t ready to face either of them. Last night, he had had the advantage of being shocked and a little numb. He had sat at the table watching both of them as if he had been stuck in some weird dream. But this morning that numbness had faded. Instead, a hollow ache sat heavy in his chest.

Sighing, he stood. Maybe if he went now, he would get lucky and be able to at least have his breakfast alone. Thrawn had always been an early riser, but after last night… Well, any  _ normal _ person would still be asleep.

Eli crept through the house, trying hard not to feel like a teenager sneaking in after being out all night. He paused for a moment outside Hellan’s room and listened, but heard nothing. That was a good sign.

Eli continued towards the kitchen and stumbled to a halt, nearly banging his shoulder against the door frame. Somehow, last night’s activities hadn’t been exhausting enough. Thrawn and Hellan were already awake. Hellan straddled Thrawn’s lap, his arm locked around her waist to keep her steady, her fingers delved deep into his hair while they kissed.

Eli’s face flooded with heat and a pulse of bitterness spread through him. Once again, he felt distinctly out of place. He almost turned around. He could stalk back up to his room, shut himself in, and count the hours it took for them to come looking for him. If they ever did. If they even bothered to remember that he was here at all.

No. No, that was childish. Although, if they wanted to be all over one another, they could at least have the decency to keep to their bedroom.

Clearing his throat, he moved slowly into the kitchen, scuffing his shoe against the floor for good measure.

Hellan was the one to break the kiss. She turned towards him, her torso twisting just enough to give Eli a clear view of Thrawn’s hand cupped over her breast. Eli’s mind stuttered to a halt. It lasted less than a second before Thrawn’s hand slid down to rest on Hellan’s stomach, but Eli was no longer looking at his hand. His eyes had snagged on the very visible point of Hellan’s nipple, taut and peaked beneath her shirt.

Another wave of heat rippled through him and that…  _ that  _ was not jealousy.

_ What the hell are you doing, Vanto? _

Hellan stood, smoothed her blouse and smiled at him as if he hadn’t just caught them going at it a few inches from where his breakfast sat.

“Good morning, Eli, dear,” she said. “How did you sleep?”

Eli tore his eyes away from her, searching desperately for something else to look at. His gaze passed briefly over Thrawn, whose hair stuck out at all angles, but that was worse, so he focused back on Hellan.

“Fine,” he said. “Pretty good.”

“Have a seat. I’ll get you something to eat.”

Eli offered what he hoped was a smile and slid into the chair opposite Thrawn. He chanced a glance at Thrawn  but the Chiss’ eyes weren’t on him. Thrawn’s gaze followed Hellan as she bustled about the kitchen, red eyes tracking her every movement as if she were an equation he was trying to commit to memory. How many times had he wished for Thrawn to stare at him like that?

“I’ve been telling Thrawn how well you’re doing, Eli,” Hellan said as she set a plate in front of him.

Thrawn finally turned to face him. “Hellan says you are grasping Cheunh at an impressive rate.”  

Once, such praise would have made him swell with pride. Now, all he felt was another sharp bite of irritation at the affectionate way he said her name. Eli stomped it down and forked a piece of v’skr patty. He was being ridiculous. He had to get past this. If nothing else, he was going to be here with them for several more days. If he didn’t get a handle on this now, he was going to end up making a fool of himself.

“I think I have the grammar down,” he said. “But some of the nuances are still confusing. And the pronunciation is difficult.”

“You will never speak Cheunh as a Chiss, but your speech will smooth out given time and exposure,” Thrawn said.

“Are you feeling more confident about going?” Hellan asked.

Eli glanced up in time to see her perch on Thrawn’s knee. Thrawn’s hand settled high on Hellan’s leg, his thumb traced patterns along her inner thigh. Eli kept his eyes firmly on her face and faked a smile again.

“If nothing else, I feel more prepared,” he said, then nodded at Thrawn. “I half thought you intended to just dump me here.”

Thrawn tilted his head. “That would have been counterproductive. Without the proper preparation, you would have been ineffectual.”

“I’m glad you’re feeling more comfortable, Eli, dear,” Hellan said, shooting Thrawn a narrow look. “Is there anything in particular you’d like to cover today? I thought Thrawn could sit in on one of our lessons so he can see your progress.”

Eli shrugged. “I could use work on everything, so it doesn’t matter to me.”

Hellan tapped her finger against her chin thoughtfully. “Perhaps we’ll focus on informal conversational Cheunh. Our focus in that has been somewhat lacking.”

“Isn’t that for personal relationships?” Eli asked. “Will I even have a reason to use it?”

“You’re committing the rest of your life to living in Chiss space, Eli. It’s quite possible you’ll grow close to someone while you’re there.”

“I guess I hadn’t really thought about it.”

“No? Do you not have anyone special here you had to say goodbye to?”

Eli pushed at his food with his fork, his appetite suddenly dampened.

“Not really,” he said. “Just my parents. And a few friends on the  _ Chimaera _ .”

“No one else?” Hellan asked.

Eli deliberately avoided looking at Thrawn. “No. I was always too busy for much more than that.”

Hellan half turned to Thrawn with an expression that was, of all things, chastising. Under any other circumstances, it would have made Eli laugh to see that look directed at Thrawn, but as it was, he felt grateful for Hellan’s silent defense of him, whether or not the blame was misplaced.

“You did give him leave, didn’t you?” she asked sharply.

“Twice a year,” Thrawn said almost absently. “In accordance with Imperial policy.”

“It’s just that I used it to go home and see my parents,” Eli said. “They wouldn’t have been able to see me otherwise.”        

Hellan radiated with approval, her smile so intense it felt like she had embraced him from the other side of the table. “I’m sure your parents were grateful for that.”

Eli nodded. “They were. This… this is going to be hard for them.”

“And for you,” Hellan said.

Eli shrugged. “I’ll be all right.”

“Of course you will, dear. But I’ll feel better if you enter our society with at least a basic understanding of relationships amongst our people.”

Eli glanced at Thrawn. “That wasn’t something we ever really talked about.”  _ Obviously _ .

“An oversight on my part,” Thrawn said. “Particularly once I had determined to send you. I apologize, Eli.”

“Why don’t you tell me what you do know,” Hellan said. “In a general sense.”

Eli thought for a moment. “I know you have a complex family and clan system and-“

“Oh, no, Eli dear. I meant your knowledge about intimate relationships specifically.”

Eli froze with his fork halfway to his mouth. He looked from Hellan to Thrawn and then back again. She wasn’t actually asking him about…

Eli slowly set down his fork. “I guess I hadn’t really thought about it. I mean, our anatomy is basically the same, right? It can’t be that different.”

“I see,” said Hellan. She and Thrawn shared a look, Hellan’s brow furrowed in apparent concern.

Eli shifted uncomfortably. “Am I… wrong?”

“Not wrong, precisely, but…” Hellan paused, pursing her lips. “Eli, you will be entering our society on my husband’s behalf. It’s his responsibility to ensure that you are thoroughly prepared for it. In every way. Intimate relationships amongst our people are very important. I couldn’t possibly let you go without a thorough education on the matter.  If you would agree to take Thrawn and myself as teachers, that is.”

Eli looked from one to the other again. He wasn’t wrong, was he? She  _ was _ talking about sex.  _ Do the Chiss take everything seriously? _

On the one hand, discussing sex with Thrawn and the woman he now knew was Thrawn’s wife was one of the last things in the galaxy he wanted to do. He would rather have been chewed up and spat back out by a rancor **.** But on the other… he looked back to Hellan. She seemed… intent. And genuine in her desire to help.

He hesitated. It couldn’t be that different from the talk his parents had given him before he left for Myomar, could it? Granted, he was older now. Far too old for a talk like that, but maybe there were some differences he should be aware of. After all, once he was there, he wouldn’t exactly be able to ask anyone. He certainly wouldn’t be able to ask Ar’alani for dating tips, and Hellan couldn’t be expected to drop her eleven kids to cater to Eli’s awkward questions. Might as well find out now.  

“All right,” he said reluctantly. “If you think it’s important.”

Hellan’s eyes lit up. “Excellent. We can begin after today’s lessons.”

Eli offered a smile even as his stomach gave a small twist of apprehension. “Can’t wait.”

* * *

 

Eli threw all of his concentration into the movement of his tongue and lips as he went through another simulated conversation with Hellan. They sat facing each other across the kitchen table, the early afternoon sunlight spilling in through the window and heating Eli’s shoulders so that his skin pricked with sweat. 

“Would you graciously condescend to glance at my decrepit weed patch?”

“Good,” Hellan replied. “Now, say it as if you weren’t speaking to an Aristocra, but someone closer in social status, like a co-worker.”

“Would you care to take a look at my garden?”

“Not so bad,” Hellan nodded taking a sip of wine. “Now, what about if you were speaking to a loved one?”

Eli thought about how Hellan and Thrawn had spoken to one another since Thrawn’s arrival. How Hellan’s tone… and even Thrawn’s had softened, the guttural words transforming into something almost melodic. They used pet names for one another, rarely calling each other by name. In overheard conversation meant for just the two of them, Thrawn’s language had even bordered on… flowery. 

“My Love, shall we venture into the garden together, where I can observe your visage mirrored in the beauty of the roses?”

Hellan made a strangled sound, as she almost choked on her drink. 

Thrawn sat to the side, a passive observer, and Eli was acutely aware of those discerning red eyes on him. Thrawn had always made Eli feel as if he had been stuck under a microscope, but this was on another level entirely. He wasn’t only conscious of the inelegance of his Cheunh, but of the awkward way his mouth moved while forming the words, the way his throat tightened around certain sounds. Every imperfection perfectly laid out and illuminated. 

Eli stumbled over the next phrase. The thick guttural sounds stuck in his throat and came out garbled. He winced and forced his way through the rest of it, then paused to take a breath. His frustration must have showed on his face because Hellan leaned across the table, took up his glass, and emptied the rest of her wine bottle into it.

“You’re doing wonderfully, Eli,” she said.

“Thanks,” he said with a small, grateful smile.  He took a sip of the wine and threw a quick glance at Thrawn. He felt like they had been at this for hours. Was he ever going to say anything? “Well?”

Thrawn touched his fingers to his chin in thought. “I believe Hellan’s assessment is correct. While you will never speak Cheunh as a native, your pronunciation is fair and your vocabulary is impressive after so short a time. I am satisfied with your progress.”

“Thanks?” Eli said again less certainly. That had  _ almost _ sounded like praise.

Hellan snorted fondly. “I can see the Empire has made you much more liberal with your compliments.”

Thrawn cast her a sidelong look. “I have never approved of flattery. I offer commendation where it has been earned.”

Hellan laughed softly and mussed Thrawn’s hair, and the momentary sense of normalcy Eli had managed to find in the last couple of minutes vanished. Thrawn caught Hellan’s hand and pressed it to his cheek, turning his head just slightly to press a kiss to her palm. Eli should have looked away. It would have been the polite, less painful thing to do. But he couldn’t help himself. He had felt her hand against his own before. It was all too easy now to conjure the feel of it against his lips as well. And he hated himself a little for it. Was he hell bent on bringing himself misery?

Hellan shut her eyes and drew in a quiet breath, a small smile playing on her lips, and in that instant, whether he fully understood it or not, there was absolutely no doubt that they loved one another entirely. What would that be like? He had never had anything close to it. Had never even seen it. His parents loved him, of course, and each other but this… This was different. This was something more.

“Have you further need of my assistance, my heart?” Thrawn asked.

Hellan lifted an eyebrow. “Do you have something better to do?”

“I would hate to disrupt the routine you and Eli have developed,” Thrawn said. “I am certain I can find some way of occupying my time while you continue.”

Hellan adopted a surprised expression that was a little too pronounced to be real. “Really? I didn’t bring much in the way of entertainment. Do you have something to amuse you on your ship?”

“Eli’s lessons are your priority. I thought it only prudent to bring along an activity that would allow me to stay out of your way,” Thrawn said.

Hellan narrowed her eyes at him but the smile was still there. “Just remember our deal. For every one I take home with me, another one comes down and goes into storage.”

“Of course, my heart.”

Hellan chuckled and shook her head. “Go on, then. Enjoy yourself. I’ll come get you for dinner.”

Thrawn stood, pressed a kiss to Hellan’s cheek and, with a nod to Eli, headed down the hall. A second later the front door opened and closed again. Eli suspected that if he looked out the window, he would see Thrawn disappearing into the small ship he had brought. Some of the pressure in Eli’s chest seemed to go with him and he pulled in a deep breath.

“What was that about?” he asked as Hellan turned back to him.

“Dioramas,” Hellan said and laughed at Eli’s expression. “He’s loved them since I’ve known him. They’re based on historical space battles so he calls them work, but I’m running out of places to put them at home.”

As she spoke, she glanced more than once at the window, her fingers brushing the place on her cheek where Thrawn’s lips had just been.

Just like that, it struck Eli. Here Hellan was, having spent the past decade apart already with who knew how many more ahead, during one of the only times she had to spend with Thrawn, and instead she was here. Going through language lessons. Worrying about Eli being lonely. Giving him every bit of her attention when she should have been spending time with her husband.

And Eli was repaying her by acting like a spoiled brat. 

“Are you all right?” he asked.

“I’m fine, dear,” Hellan said with a dismissive little wave. “It’s just…”

“Hard,” Eli finished and Hellan nodded. 

“It’s not an easy life,” she said. “And certainly not one I was thrilled about at first. But it’s one we decided on together. He wouldn’t be him if I had asked him to stay.”

“How long has it been?”

Hellan pushed a stray strand of hair back from her face, looking thoughtful. “A little over a year this time. I couldn’t get away for his last leave.”

Eli’s throat tightened around a swell of emotion. “You must have hated me.” 

The words were out before he could think about them, before he even realized they were there.

Hellan’s eyes widened. “Why in the universe would you say that?”

“You’re his wife and you hardly see him,” Eli said. “I’ve been with him almost every day since I met him.”

“Oh, Eli.” Hellan reached across the table and covered his hand with hers and squeezed. “I am so glad he’s had you. I know everyone thinks he does well on his own, but… He needed someone. And I couldn’t be happier that it turned out to be you.”

With that, the noise in Eli’s head quieted. He looked down to where her fingers lightly stroked the back of his wrist, leaving little trails of heat across his skin. He felt that warmth spread inside of him. She was thankful that he had been there for Thrawn. Eli couldn’t remember anyone being grateful for him, even just for his existence, ever. There was no resentment in her voice or her touch, just… love. It wasn’t the type of love she shared with Thrawn, but it was something he had never had before. 

He raised his eyes to look at her face, and caught a glimpse of blue skin and the shadow between her breasts down the neckline of her shirt.   

Clearing his throat, Eli gave her hand a brief squeeze before he pulled away and gestured at the conversation prompts. “Can we keep going? I felt like I was starting to get the hang of it.” 

Maybe, if he was lucky, he would be able to get the hang of these inconvenient desires as well. 

* * *

 

“He threw a ball at my ship! Repeatedly!” 

“It seemed the most efficient way of announcing my presence,” Thrawn said, flicking an amused glance at Eli. “Your door was sealed.”

“Maybe because I wasn’t expecting unannounced visitors,” Hellan said with feigned agitation. “Particularly when I had already told that visitor  _ not _ to come.”

Thrawn shook his head. “No. You told me we had to cancel our outing. You said nothing about me coming to check on you and the children.”

Hellan let out a huff of laughter and rolled her eyes. “So stubborn.”

“Are you voicing a complaint?” Thrawn asked. It still baffled Eli to hear a tone that was almost teasing in his voice.

Something in Hellan’s features changed, softening yet intensifying at the same time. She ran her thumb fondly across his brow. “Hardly. We owe a lot to that stubbornness of yours.”

Hellan’s fingers wandered down Thrawn’s face  as he leaned into her touch. Eli quickly averted his eyes down to the mostly empty plate in front of him and pushed at the few bites that remained. Most of dinner had passed in this way. Stories and memories and moments that Eli had no place in. Whatever irrational anger had taken hold of him earlier, his realizations during lessons had wiped it away. Now he was left with nothing but a dull pain, one that he had no business feeling and that he was struggling to ignore.

“Well,” Hellan said, breaking the mood and drawing Eli’s attention again. “I think we’ve reminisced long enough. If you’re finished, Eli, we can begin.”

Eli hesitated for a fraction of a second. He had spent most of his time before dinner trying to come up with ways to talk her out of this plan, but hadn’t been able to think of anything. An hour or so of intensely awkward discomfort didn’t seem like much of a price to pay if it meant Hellan felt as if she had done everything within her power to prepare him for Chiss culture. Might as well get it over with.

“Ready when you are,” he said.

“Excellent,” Hellan said. “Although, I believe we’ll be much more comfortable in the sitting room.”

Eli refrained from telling her that he wasn’t likely to be comfortable having this conversation  _ anywhere _ , and stood to follow her and Thrawn out of the kitchen. The curtains in the sitting room were pulled back from the large window, and outside silvery moonlight glinted softly off Thrawn’s ship. Thrawn and Hellan took the two chairs beside one another, which left Eli with the couch facing them. 

Eli sat. The thought passed through his head that he probably should have brought a data pad to take notes on, and he almost laughed. He had been here for weeks taking language lessons from Hellan, but this was the first time he felt as if he was walking in to the first day of a lecture. He almost wanted to joke about there being a test at the end but with his luck, that would only give them ideas.

“You look nervous,” Hellan said.

Eli breathed a laugh. “Just not sure what to expect.”

“There’s nothing to worry about, dear. Actually, we’ll be improvising a bit ourselves,” Hellan said. “This is usually something that occurs when a child comes of age, and is only one of the celebrations that marks entrance into adulthood. But since you’re already an adult, we’ll just have to feel our way a bit.”

Eli blinked. “You  _ celebrate _ this? Publicly?”

“Of course,” Hellan said as if it should have been obvious. “Our society is built on families, Eli. Everyone needs to know how to maintain healthy relationships. Particularly if you want to enter into the lifelong commitment of a marriage.”

“Marriage is permanent then? You can’t reverse it if things go wrong or if you change your mind?” 

Hellan shook her head. “I understand it’s common among humans?”

Eli shrugged. “Depends on where you come from. Some of the planets in Wild Space don’t have it, but their definition of a marriage is pretty loose anyway.”

“That will not be the case in the Ascendancy,” Hellan said. “Marriage is a very big decision among our people. It’s the only way you are permitted to have children.”

“So… if you’re in a relationship where pregnancy is a possibility, you can’t have sex until you’re married?” Eli asked. 

Hellan laughed. “Of course we do. Sex is the most intimate way you can share your love with someone. It’s commonly engaged in between couples who are courting. We simply take preventative measures.” 

Eli frowned.  _ Preventative measures? _

Hellan didn’t miss his confusion. “You… are familiar with the concept of birth control, aren’t you?”

Eli grimaced. The sensation of being utterly lost was starting to get old, but it was one he was probably going to have to get used to considering where he was going. Maybe it really was a good thing Hellan had decided to give him this talk. He was already lost and they hadn’t even gotten to sex yet.

“Sorry, no.” 

Hellan turned to Thrawn with a look that was almost pleading. “Please tell me these poor people have birth control.”

Thrawn tilted his head thoughtfully. “The few times I have heard sex discussed in the navy, it seemed to be in the context of a score keeping system. I do not believe their views on intimate relations are entirely inline with our own.” 

“Oh dear,” Hellan said. “In that case, we had better cover that first. Love, would you go get the condoms, please?”

Thrawn bowed his head once. “Of course, my heart.”

With that he rose and left the room. After a moment of silence, Eli cleared his throat.

“Is birth control what it sounds like?” he asked.

“It’s a way to prevent pregnancy before marriage,” Hellan said. “Condoms are only one method. There are others. Thrawn and I have hardly used them since we were married, though there have been a few times over the years where it wouldn’t have been prudent to bring another child into our lives. Or sometimes our older children bring guests over, so we keep them on hand. We used them extensively once when we started courting.”

“Courting?”

Hellan looked distressed. “Don’t tell me that’s a foreign concept as well?”

“No,” Eli said quickly, grateful that something at least was vaguely familiar. “I’ve heard of it, it’s just… It’s sort of an outdated term in the Empire.”

Hellan muttered something under her breath in Cheunh. Eli couldn’t hear it all, but he caught the words ‘Empire’, ‘romance’, and ‘dead’ among the rest of the quick guttural sounds. After a moment she took a steadying breath.

“In Chiss culture, courting is a very complex and serious affair. That’s not to say it can’t be enjoyable. But it’s not something to be taken lightly, either.”

“So how does it work? 

“It differs slightly depending on your status. For instance, Thrawn was a commoner. I was born into one of the Ruling Families. The process would have been slightly different had we both been born Family members. Or both commoners.”

“Is that what I’ll be?” he asked. “A commoner.”

Hellan’s brow furrowed in thought. “I’m not sure, to be honest. Your position is going to be… unique. It’s most likely that you’ll be outside the social structure in many ways. However, it is possible for you to do what Thrawn did and marry into a Family. It’s rare with non-Chiss but it has happened.”

“Is that how you and he met?” Eli asked. “He was looking for someone already in a Family?”

“More or less. He was already a Trial-born but marriage was the best way of securing his position in the Family. Thrawn’s brother and my family arranged the match.”

“Your marriage was arranged?” Eli couldn’t keep the surprise out of his voice. 

“Not precisely. Preliminary arrangements are made by the families, but the decision to marry or not is entirely up to the couple in question.”

“So why did they match you and him?”

“He was… odd,” Hellan said with a shrug. “Known for breaking the rules. And he hadn’t been overly charming to the other candidates his brother had found for him. He was running out of options and I was considered to be… foolproof.”

There was something in her voice then, something old and raw. Without thinking, Eli leaned towards her. He was almost half out of his seat when Thrawn’s slow footsteps sounded in the hallway. Grimacing, Eli dropped back on to the couch.

Thrawn came back in with a large box tucked under his arm, about the size that standard issue boots might come in. Eli hadn’t really considered what sort of device might be used to prevent pregnancy, but now came the first stab of apprehension. Exactly what were these condoms and how big were they? Birth control suddenly sounded slightly ominous. 

“Here we are,” Hellan said, her mood brightening again.

Thrawn took his seat again and set the box on the table, opening the lid. Eli peered inside and almost laughed. It wasn’t one large thing, or even a few. Instead, the box was filled with hundreds of little square packets of different colors. There were even a few with distinctive logos on them. Most were in Cheunh but he picked out a few with Sy Bisti writing on them. ‘Hot Passion’, one of them read. That sounded… interesting.

Thrawn took one out of the box and handed it to Eli. Eli accepted it a bit hesitantly. It was lighter than he had expected, almost flat. He pressed his fingers against the packaging, trying to feel for what was inside. Of all things, it felt like a thin, flexible ring.  _ What the hell…? _

“As I said, these are only one method,” Hellan said, holding one up. “There are also medications, injections, surgical implants… but condoms are one of the simplest. The thing you have to remember with these is to open them carefully. They’re relatively easy to tear.”

Eli watched Hellan open one and then carefully followed suit. A little rubber… thing fell out into his hand. He listened while Hellan explained about the different kinds, how they worked, how to pinch the tip and roll it on, what to do with them afterwards, all the while rolling his own out so he could follow along. He got the distinct impression once again that he was in some surreal dream. This couldn’t be real. Cheunh had broken his brain and he was hallucinating about little rubber gloves that went on dicks. Who the hell had come up with this?

“... and this part is important, dear,” Hellan was saying. “You have to make sure the rim is on the outside, otherwise…”

Eli looked up. And froze. For a long, drawn out, embarrassing moment, nothing worked. Hellan’s voice got swallowed up by a buzz in his ears. Because Hellan wasn’t just explaining. She was  _ demonstrating. _ On  _ Thrawn _ . Thrawn, who was standing up. Thrawn, who had his pants undone, undergarments pulled down, cock hanging out. It was hard and rigid in Hellan’s hands, the skin flushed a deep purple, and it was directly on level with Eli’s eyes. No. A little lower than that. On level with his mouth. And Hellan’s hands. Confident. Firm. Sure fingers rolling the condom up the length of Thrawn’s cock. 

Two very sharp images snapped through Eli’s head, separate at first and then twisting together. Thrawn’s cock against his lips. And Hellan’s hands…

Eli jerked to his feet, almost upending the box of condoms. Hellan paused in the middle of her sentence and looked up at him with wide eyes. 

“Are you all right?” she asked. Her hands were still on Thrawn’s cock, the condom more than half way on. Eli had to tear his eyes away.

“What are you doing?” Eli’s voice cracked on the words but he couldn’t bring himself to care.

Hellan frowned in confusion. “Do you have a question? I can start over if you feel you’ve missed-”

“No!” Eli yelped, clearing his throat in an effort to get his voice back under control. “No, it’s not… I hadn’t realized… I thought it was just going to be some Chiss version of the talk.”

“The talk?”

“You know,” Eli said, gesturing helplessly. He couldn’t bring himself to look at Hellan, and he definitely couldn’t look at Thrawn. Why was he still just  _ standing _ there? 

“Eli?” 

He scrambled for his thoughts. They kept knocking into one another and careening rapidly away from him. His heart hammered in his chest, his breath constricted into short, desperate pants. 

“You know,” he said again. “The sex talk?”

“Sex talk…” Hellan repeated. She looked up at Thrawn. “They expect them to learn everything from a talk? No wonder they’re rebelling!” 

Hellan turned back to Eli and held out one hand out to him. “You can’t learn this from a talk, dear. It’s far too important and you deserve to be shown. Here. Come try. It’s really quite easy.”

A wave of cold rushed through him as he felt the blood leave his face. Eli flicked an unwilling glance down to where Hellan still had a hand wrapped around Thrawn’s cock. He looked away again and briefly up to Thrawn’s face. Those red eyes that were usually so sharp and aware were heavy now and slightly glazed, pupils blown wide. And no, that did not help.

“No thanks,” he said.

“There’s no need to be shy, dear.”

Eli turned towards Thrawn enough to direct his words to him without having to meet his eyes again. “Isn’t this against some regulation or something?” 

“You are no longer a member of my crew, Eli.” Despite… everything, his voice sounded as composed as ever. Which really wasn’t fair at all. But then, what about Thrawn had ever been fair? “You are a diplomat to the Chiss Ascendancy where this is the practice.”

“There, see?” Hellan said. “Nothing to be worried about.” 

Hellan reached for him again. Eli tried to take a step back but his leg hit the edge of the couch and he nearly toppled on to it.

“No, really, I can’t.”

Hellan tilted her head. She almost looked… disappointed? No, that couldn’t be right. “Are you not attracted to the male form?” 

Eli wheezed out a laugh that edged on hysterical “That’s not the problem.”

“I can put it on you if you’d like,” she offered. “And then you can try one on yourself?”

“What?” Eli asked, his voice embarrassingly high and thin. “No, that’s all right.”

“Eli,” Hellan said. She narrowed her eyes and understanding slowly spread over her features. “Is this… uncomfortable for you?”

Eli stared at her. He had no idea how to answer that and really didn’t trust his voice to try. Thankfully, Hellan didn’t leave him to wrestle with that for long. She stood quickly and turned towards Thrawn, using her body to cut off Eli’s view. She was whispering to him in hushed, rapid Cheunh. Every now and then Thrawn responded shortly, but Eli wasn’t listening to the words. His eyes dropped for just a fraction of a second, down to where Thrawn’s cock was probably still cradled in Hellan’s hands.

After a moment, she turned back to him. Thrawn was decent again. The little stab of disappointment he felt at that brought on a an accompanying wave of ridiculous amusement. Shutting his eyes, Eli practically collapsed back on to the couch and buried his face in his palms. A moment later he felt the cushion sink next to him and then warm, comforting hands were rubbing his back. It took everything he had not to think about where those hands had just been.

“I’m sorry, Eli,” Hellan said. “It seems there’s been a misunderstanding. I hadn’t realized…”

She trailed off and Eli could only shake his head. Could someone die of humiliation? It didn’t help at all that a part of him was still picturing everything, mourning the loss of what might have happened if he had just let things be.

“Not your fault,” he managed to say. “I just wasn’t expecting…” He waved his hand in Thrawn’s general direction and glanced at Hellan.

She was chewing on her lip thoughtfully, the way she sometimes did when they kept hitting up against a barrier in language lessons. 

“We can slow down,” she finally said. “We’ll start from the basics and I want you to be very open about when it becomes too much. Is that acceptable?”

Eli stared at her. “You… you want to keep going with this?”

And what was this exactly? Education? Sex? Both? 

“You don’t have to decide tonight,” she said reassuringly. 

Eli nodded. That was a relief because his head was spinning, his thoughts slipping away. He risked another glance at Thrawn. He looked unaffected, like always. Of course he did. Nevermind that Eli had just seen… 

“Perhaps it would be best to sleep on it,” Thrawn suggested.

In a fog, and taking comfort from the fact that Thrawn’s words had almost sounded like an order--- something familiar and welcome--- Eli stood and wandered back to his room. Mechanically, he shut the door behind him and flopped back onto his bed. The condom was still clutched in his hand, slick now with sweat from his palm. Tossing it on to the nightstand, Eli threw his arm over his eyes and for a long while just lay there, trying not to think.

Hellan’s and Thrawn’s voices carried back to him from the sitting room. The tone sounded somewhat serious but the words were too muffled for him to make out. Not that he tried very hard. He didn’t have the brainpower to eavesdrop anyway.

After what could have been either a few minutes or close to an hour, he heard their footsteps coming back into the hall. He tensed, half expecting his door to open, for Hellan to check on him one more time to make sure he was all right. But neither of them came that far down the hall. Their door opened, closed, and Eli finally, finally felt the tension seep out of his body. Exhaustion washed over him all at once.

His relief was short lived. Apparently the disaster that had been this night had no effect on  _ their  _ moods. The noises started coming from the nearby room within minutes. Yesterday it had just annoyed him, but tonight there was a different sort of awkwardness. A long moan bled through the wall. Eli’s pulse fluttered as he wondered what Thrawn could be doing to her. Where was his mouth? His hands? Other parts of him that Eli had seen more closely than he had ever thought?

Thrawn had been naked in front of him before--- they had shared a room at the academy and for several years after that--- but never aroused. He had dreamed of that cock hard and hot inside of him for ages, but apparently the reality was too much. 

What he remembered the most, though, was Hellan’s hands. 

_ I can put it on you if you’d like. _

_ Stars. _ He was erect just from listening to them, but the image of her blue fingers against his brown skin as she slid the condom on, while Thrawn’s eyes glittered in approval--- He glanced to his left to where the condom lay on the nightstand. He grabbed it, closed his eyes, and slowly rolled it over his penis. 

She was naked now, or half dressed on all fours, her breasts brushed against his legs. Hellan’s cheeks dimpled, her mouth quirked mischievously. Keeping eye contact, she bent down further and placed breathy kisses against the trail of hair on his belly, and he gasped. She tightened her grip on him, spreading the precome against the head of his cock with her thumb. She sat up, giving him a view of her soft stomach and wondrous breasts---with her--- what color would her nipples be--- that grey pink color of Thrawn’s lips? Dark blue? Purple perhaps? Yes. Yes. He wanted them in his mouth, in his hands, but what she was doing---the friction felt so good, and felt even better when her other hand dropped down to caress his balls, which were already pulled tight. Hellan looked up and tilted her head, parting her lips as Thrawn leaned down and kissed her. Thrawn’s cock was out and hard, and he thrust into his own palm.

Thrawn left Hellan’s side, caged Eli to the bed with his arms and pressed his mouth against his. His tongue traced slow and exact patterns against Eli’s lips and Eli shivered, arching upward desperately. He cried out against Thrawn’s mouth as Hellan gave the underside of his cock a long, firm lick. Thrawn pulled away and Eli chased after him, hungry for the taste of him. A malicious smile spread across Thrawn’s face, and rather than kissing him again, he presented Eli with his cock instead. Which was perfectly fine. Eli was hungry for that too.  

The three of them found a rhythm, The heat of Hellan’s mouth taunting him as Eli’s hips thrust into her soft hand, Thrawn pumping into his eager mouth. From the next room there was a sudden hoarse shout, as if someone had a revelation. Imagining his mouth filling with the taste of Thrawn, Eli came, shuddering with a choked off scream. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> FeartheTalon headcanons that the Republic and the Empire have no idea about what constitutes birth control for humans and humanoid species. Explains why all these ladies keep getting pregnant as a plot device. Those Jedi kept it secret for over 4000 years....


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter tagged for yummy cookies and Thrawn's flawless impersonation skills

_Mitth’raw,_

_I’m sorry to cancel last minute but our outing today isn’t going to work. The kids have gotten sick and I can’t leave them. We can reschedule if you have the time later or plan for something on your next leave if you’d like. Let me know which one will work for you._

_Mitth'ella'nuruodo_

 

The Nuruodo Family Estate was a large compound of three houses, mansions each the size of the community homes where fifty commoner families typically lived. The buildings were constructed from immaculate white stone that shone in the sunlight. Golden statues perched on top of sharply peaked roofs emanated an aura of power and wealth. The entire display was situated behind tall gates that, judging from the material and the scrollwork, looked to have been excavated from one of the ancient dead Family homes. The effect was intentionally ornate, one meant to draw the attention of anyone passing by and to serve as a sharp, simple reminder: you are outside. We are set apart.

Raw stepped out of Thrass’ clawspeeder into a light drizzle. He gathered the packages he had brought with him in one arm, carefully lifted the hot cannister of soup into the other, and thanked the chauffeur before turning to face the gates.

He had been disappointed upon receiving Hellan’s message. Their outing had been planned for nearly a month, but it had been much longer than that since he had seen her or the children. Hellan had her business to run, so it had been inevitable, and understandable, that at some point one of her longer jobs would coincide with his leave. It had finally happened during his last one. They had been able to exchange a few messages when her ship had been in range of communications, but those had been few and far between, and had mostly consisted of information about the children.

His leave this time was longer. It would not have been a major inconvenience to simply reply that he would be happy to reschedule for a later date, but there was no reason he couldn’t bring the children their gifts before then. And at any rate, one mention of their illness had prompted his brother-in-law, Mitth’umi’safis, to fix them a batch of soup that he said his mother had made for him in his childhood. Perhaps that in combination with the gifts would help them feel at least a little better.

Raw approached the gate and pressed the call button next to the small comm mounted on one of the duramarb columns. A moment later a female voice, polite and cool, answered.

“Yes?”

“I am Commander Mitth’raw of the CEDF here for Mitth’ella’nuruodo.”

There was an extended pause from the other side. Raw frowned. Had the comm cut out?

“Please enter, Commander,” the woman finally said. “A member of the family will greet you in the main house.”

Before she had fully finished speaking, the lock on the gate disengaged and it swung outwards far enough to let him pass comfortably through. Adjusting his packages under his arm, Raw walked up the long shimmerstone drive toward the largest of the three homes. The front door opened as he approached and a servant dressed in the Family livery invited him into a large entry hall of polished dark wood and light stone floors.

“Commander Mitth’raw, I have been instructed to inform you that Mitth’anaisi’nuruodo will be with you shortly,” the young man said.

Raw nodded once and the servant left him with a tight, shallow bow. Taking a few leisurely steps, Raw stopped near the middle of the hall and glanced around at the artwork displayed on the walls and pedestals that lined the perimeter of the room. It was expensive but mostly uniform in style, tone, and theme. That was a likely indicator that a single individual had made the selections, and the tastes of that individual were unimpressive at best.

For a moment, he feared that Hellan might have had some input, but he dismissed that quickly. True, they were still becoming familiar with one another, but he saw nothing of her personality in any of the decisions made in this room. Perhaps her quarters would offer further insight.

Several minutes passed before someone descended from the grand staircase at the back of the hall, a tall older woman with her hair arranged in an immaculate style that seemed almost carved.

“I greet you, Commander Mitth’raw,” she said as she reached the bottom step. “I am Mitth’anaisi’nuruodo. I was told you are looking for Mitth’ella’nuruodo?”

Raw gave a small nod that he knew would be taken for a bow. “I am.”

Mitth’anaisi’nuruodo eyed the bag of packages and canister in Raw’s hands. “I regret to inform you that she is not here. She has not lived here for quite some time, in fact.”

Raw blinked. That was odd. Hellan had never mentioned her living arrangements, but he had always assumed that she resided with the rest of the Family.

“I was not aware,” he said. “Can you tell me where---”

“Mitth’raw?”

Raw paused and looked. A small group of younger Chiss, a woman and two men, had gathered at the bottom of the stairs. It was the woman, a tall slender girl wearing a necklace made of a waterfall of silver that cascaded over her chest, who had spoken. She looked vaguely familiar.

“What are you doing here?” she asked, descending a few of the stairs.

Raw opened his mouth but it was Mitth’anaisi’nuruodo who answered, some amusement he did not fully understand in her tone. “He’s looking for Hellan.”

“Hellan?” The woman laughed. “Are you sure you have the right person? No one comes here looking for _her_.”

Raw frowned. “I am not mistaken. I received a message from her that our outing would have to be cancelled due to the children catching an illness. I wanted to check on them.”

“I see.”

“Hellan… Is that the one with the savage sibling?” one of the men asked, his voice rolling in a bored way.

Mitth’anaisi’nuruodo gave Raw a sweeping glance before she turned away and headed towards a set of large double doors that led off the hall.

“Wait here,” she said. “I’ll see if I can find her current location for you.”

“My thanks,” Raw said just as the doors shut behind Mitth’anaisi’nuruodo, leaving him alone with the others who were now staring at him with varying degrees of confusion and, in the woman’s case, thinly veiled hostility. It was a familiar look that was often directed at him. He had long since grown used to it.

“So,” the woman said after a moment. Her voice was noticeably colder now. “You’re trying with Hellan now, are you?”

“First date?” the man who had spoken before asked with a twist to his smile that set Raw on edge.

Raw regarded him with a level stare. “The seventh, in fact.”

The woman’s eyes widened and she laughed. “Seventh? Apparently there’s _something_ she’s good at.”

“Hellan is skilled and knowledgeable in many areas,” Raw said impatiently. He hoped to end the discussion there, but his answer only seemed to feed their amusement.

“I’m sure she is,” she said with a snort, then cast her companion a knowing smirk. “Thamanu would know all about that, wouldn’t you?”

Mitth’ama’nuruodo swatted her playfully on the shoulder. “Stop teasing him. There’s nothing wrong with having a bit of fun before getting serious.”

“What gave you the impression that I was not serious?” Raw asked.

Mitth’amu’nuruodo turned his gaze back to him and his brow furrowed before he grinned again. “Oh, I see. You’re on the fast track to get adopted, am I right? I understand completely. Mitth’yni’nuruodo was as well.” He gestured at the other man standing beside him, who had taken to inspecting his nails as if Raw were not there. “I commend you for being so devoted to your ambitions.” He chuckled obnoxiously.

“Thank you,” Raw said absently. He glanced at the doorway Mitth’anaisi’nuruodo had left through. It could not take that long to locate a member of your own Family, could it?

The woman approached him, closing in so much that her breasts nearly brushed his arm. “ _Is_ she fun?”

Raw glanced down at her impassively. “I have enjoyed much of our time together.”

She leaned her body towards his, her smile turning almost predatory. “I’m sure she’s quite accommodating.”

Suddenly it struck him. It was the insipid tilt of her eyes as she looked up at him through long lashes that finally caught in his memory. She was one in a long list of failed potential matches chosen by his brother. That particular date, if he recalled correctly, hadn’t survived the first hour.

“I remember you,” he said. “You are the one who thought Pfsaph’karr’s work was ugly and of no consequence.”

The woman reeled back slightly, her perfectly tailored expression fracturing for just a moment. When she spoke again her words were frigid and clipped. “Clearly one of us has no taste.”

“I agree.”

Tense silence fell over the hall until Mitth’anaisi’nuruodo returned. Raw took a deliberate step away from the woman and turned towards the elder.

“Her ship was registered in the spaceport five days ago,” Mitth’anaisi’nuruodo said. “I do not know the docking bay.”

Raw gave her another shallow, polite bow. Thrass had taken the trouble to remind him to show proper deference to the people he would call Family one day before Raw had left that morning. At the very least, he would make the effort for his brother’s sake. Hellan probably wouldn’t appreciate it if he voiced his opinion on his present company, either.

“My thanks again,” he said, and without looking at the others, he turned and stepped back outside, where the drizzle had turned to rain.

* * *

 

The spaceport was packed with travellers and crew members of private ships, all of them jostling against one another as they attempted to maneuver luggage carts down the aisles. Raw, however, strode unhindered through the crowd as it parted before him; a passerby, whom he had bribed to carry his packages, scrambled to keep up behind him.

He stopped in front of the terminal 4 desk with a flourish, flicking his ornately embroidered cape, or more accurately, Thrass’ cape, which he had discovered in the clawspeeder, fresh from the cleaners, over his shoulder. The next person in line, an older woman juggling three hat boxes, hesitated at his approach, and when the space in front of the docking official’s desk opened up, Raw passed by her without hesitation. 

“Tell me which docking bay holds the ship of Mitth’ella’nuruodo,” he drawled.

The docking official flicked a bored glance up at him before returning his eyes to the screen of his datapad, his fingers tapping heavily against it.

“Who’s asking?”

In the most imperious tones he could conjure, Raw looked down his nose at the official and said, “I am Syndic Mitth’ras’safis.”

The official’s eyes darted up again, lingering on him for a few moments longer, before he let out a small sigh and straightened. “Identification?”

Raw pulled a data card from his pocket and passed it through the window. The official swiped it and then tapped the corner of it on his desk while he waited for the read. In the interim, Raw pushed his hand casually back through his hair. He had carefully tailored his appearance in the dark windows of his brother’s clawspeeder before he had entered the spaceport, but there was no harm in making certain.

After a few moments, the official leaned forward a bit, switching his gaze studiously between Raw and the screen. He narrowed his eyes.

“Where’s your mole?” he asked.

Raw lifted his brows cooly. “Excuse me?”

The official nodded at the screen. “You’ve got a mole on your cheek in your photo.”

The mole. No one had ever caught that before. He almost smiled. This man had an eye for detail.

Raw tried his best to look affronted. “I had it surgically altered. It marred my otherwise impeccable visage.”

The official stared at him for several seconds with a raised eyebrow. Finally he simply shook his head and passed the card back to Raw, gesturing absently towards the back of the spaceport.

“A ship registered to Mitth’ella’nuruodo is docked in bay 4234.”

Raw gave a single nod and turned sharply on his heel, beckoning for the nervous looking man carrying his packages to follow him.

 

* * *

 

Hellan slunk into the captain’s chair and shut her eyes before she was even fully settled. It was the first time she had been able to sit in almost twenty-four hours. Her body felt heavy and her muscles ached, which was no surprise considering she had spent most of that time bent over one of her siblings or the other while they puked into the toilet. She had only stopped to negotiate a trade deal. There was still a business to run and children to feed, covered in vomit or not. At least that particular deal had been easy to conduct over a holo call. She’d only had to look presentable from the waist up.

With the exception of Oba, who had caught a mild and quickly passing case, all of her siblings were sick. Hellan was grateful for that small mercy. At least Oba was easily entertained. Give her a datapad with a full directory on known animals and she was good for hours. If it had been Elena or Yuri running around with their usual energy, she might have strangled them by now.

A solid thud sounded against her ship. Hellan grimaced. What on earth would be falling on her ship inside a spaceport? A moment later it came again. Her mind latched on to the first likely explanation.

“Elena, if you don’t knock it off, I swear...”

Wait, no. The last time she had seen Elena, her sister had been passed out in her bed.

_What the hell?_

She opened her eyes in time to see a bright yellow ball hit the viewport right in front of her face. Hellan stared for a moment, her brain refusing to comprehend what had just happened, but it was back a moment later, smacking against the viewport and bouncing off. Great. Someone messing around. She dragged herself to her feet and glared out, ready to go throttle whoever wasn’t watching their kid.

Apparently, she was going to have to throttle Syndic Mitth’ras’safis, she thought, as Mitth’raw caught the ball and gave her a small wave.

The walk from the cockpit to the ship’s entrance wasn’t long enough for her to figure out how she could politely turn him away without actually letting him see her. What was he doing here? Hadn’t he gotten her message? Hopefully he was only there to drop off whatever he had brought with him. She needed to catch at least a few minutes of sleep while the kids were all napping.

She lowered the ramp and met him at the bottom, folding her arms across her stomach. The air inside the spaceport felt chilly and dry.

“Didn’t you get my message?” she asked. “I can’t do anything today. Everyone is sick.”

Mitth’raw picked up the bag by his feet and approached her. To her surprise, his expression held nothing but concern. “I am not proposing that we go out. I simply wished to check on you and the children.”

“That’s sweet of you, but really, we’re fine. It just has to run its course. Besides, I wouldn’t want you to catch it.”

“Do not let that concern you,” Mitth’raw said. “My immune system is exceptional. And at any rate, my brother-in-law was kind enough to send you some soup. You wouldn’t turn down soup from an Aristocra, would you?”

Hellan bit her lip softly, glancing at the elaborate cape on his shoulder and the ruffled hair. Was he always going to be so ridiculously determined?

She nodded at the bag hanging on his arm. “What is all that?”

“Gifts,” he said. “For the children of course.”

Heaving a put upon sigh, she shrugged. “Fine. You can come in. But if you start vomiting a few days from now, you’ll have only yourself to blame.”

“I will bear that in mind,” he said as he slipped past her, the hint of a smug smile tugging at his lips.

Hellan only shook her head and followed him. She was too exhausted to nurture some sort of irritation. And the soup meant she wouldn’t have to fumble around with her oven while she was only half awake.

Regret hit her almost the instant she closed the ramp. Mitth’raw could not have looked more out of place standing in the cramped interior of her ship. Shoes and toys cluttered the floor and almost every other flat surface. Elena had left one of her games sitting in the corridor, little metal pieces scattered around the board on the floor, and Yuri had spilled an entire bottle of glitter somewhere- she couldn’t remember where at the moment- that she hadn’t gotten to yet. Even his cape clashed with the brightly colored knitted blankets that were draped over everything. He was a stark contrast to the chaos that had been her life for years now.

“You can set the gifts there for now,” she said, leading him further in to the ship and pointing him towards the family sitting area, a small area she had filled with cushions and more blankets to make it as comfortable as possible. Mitth’raw had to duck to get through the doorway. He put the bags down in a corner and then turned to her with the canister of soup.

“You have a kitchen, I presume?” he asked.

Hellan nodded and turned, walking the few feet further to the kitchen with him close behind her. He slipped past her when they reached it, setting the canister on the stove and rifling through the cupboards for something to heat it in. He cast her a sidelong glance that was almost diagnostic in nature.

“Would you like to clean up?” he asked.

Hellan grimaced and felt her face heat in embarrassment. The answer to that was a resounding yes. She felt disgusting. Her hair was tangled and something that could have been vomit or breakfast or both stained her shirt.

She shook her head. “I’ll get to it. I don’t want to take the chance Api will start puking again with no one to help him.”

“I will monitor the situation and be able to assist him if he does.”

“You don’t have to do that.”

Mitth’raw gave her a confused look. “The primary reason for my coming here was to offer my help.”

Hellan opened her mouth to protest again. She had made it through illnesses and worse over the last several years, had pulled her siblings through the hell of losing their parents, leaving the Family home, and building a new life out of nothing but pain and loss. She did not _need_ help. And yet, protest was not what came out of her mouth.

“Thank you,” she said softly.

“You are welcome,” Mitth’raw said, pulling a pan from her cupboard and setting it on the stove. “Take as long as you need.”

Swallowing a lump of emotion that swelled to life in the back of her throat, Hellan left him to his soup heating. It took all of her concentration to make it back to the shower without running into anything. She felt so… distant. As if her mind and body had separated from one another, leaving her feeling listless and detached. All she knew was exhaustion and the weight in her limbs that increased with every passing moment.

Maybe the shower would help. A shower and a nap. That was what she needed.

Her motions were mechanic as she stripped out of her clothes and turned the shower on as hot as it would go. Passing her hand beneath the stream of water, she grimaced and climbed in anyway, leaning against the wall as the stream of water fell over her body. It was warm but not _hot_. She couldn’t remember the last time she had taken a properly hot shower, where the room filled with steam and the air became so thick it felt like a blanket wrapped around every part of her body. Probably when she had lived with the Family. When she thought of it like that, she couldn’t miss it much. Putting up with those people wasn’t worth all the hot water in…

The Family.

Hellan’s eyes snapped open.

She had been too tired and shocked to even think about it before, but now the question gnawed at her: how exactly had Mitth’raw tracked her down? She had never mentioned her living arrangements to him. She was certain of that because she never discussed her living arrangements with anyone. Why would he think to come looking for her at the spaceport unless…

She squeezed her eyes shut and groaned.

Unless someone had pointed him in this direction. He must have gone by the house. Of course he would have. He had been looking for her at home and she had never given him any reason to believe that that house was the farthest thing from home she could conceive of. Who had met him? Who had he met? And what had they told _him_? Hopefully he had simply asked one of the elders. It was a feeble hope. Even if Mitth’raw had managed to quietly and discreetly ask one of the servants, that servant would talk, and then those people would talk, and the entire house would know by the end of the day. Discretion didn’t exactly seem to be Mitth’raw’s strong suit. He had probably waltzed right up to the front door and asked after her like it was any normal social call.

She sighed and slumped back against the wall again, letting the water fall down on her head and run into her face. Maybe it was just as well. It wasn’t like she could avoid them forever, and she certainly couldn’t keep him from them. He was looking to marry into the Family, after all. Still, it would probably be better to avoid the house completely for a while, which wouldn’t be overly difficult. She had to be in another system the day after tomorrow to meet one of her trade partners anyway.

Hellan pushed herself upright. The longer she stood there without moving, the more she felt like she might collapse, so she quickly scrubbed her body clean and turned the water off, toweled herself dry, and redressed.

When she stepped out into the hallway, the warm scent of food washed over her. Voices carried back to her from the sitting room, and she wandered down the corridor to find Mitth’raw sitting on one of the cushions with Oba in his lap. The rest of the kids were all there as well and things had been picked up. The shoes by the door were ordered, the toys put away. The chaos that had moved in with the illness had been mostly removed. Hellan eyed the only closet in the front part of the corridor. If Mitth’raw was anything like Elena, there would be a wall of junk behind it, but she didn’t have the energy to care at the moment.

Mitth’raw glanced up as she entered and nodded toward a spot that had been left empty on one of the cushions. Hellan took it and without a word he stood and disappeared into the kitchen, taking Oba with him. After a few moments, he and Oba returned, carefully carrying mugs of steaming soup. They passed them out, Oba handing Hellan one before snuggling up into her lap. Hellan inhaled the smell of the soup but caught something else laced through it in the air.

“Do I smell cookies?” She directed her question into Oba’s hair but looked up at Mitth’raw.

“Oba believed they would be good for crew morale,” he said.

“Is that so?” she asked.

Oba twisted up to whisper in her ear. “They’re mostly for Elena. She needs to start feeling better.”

Hellan choked back a laugh.

“I heard that,” Elena said.

The timer for the oven went off and Raw turned quickly to return to the kitchen. Hellan watched him go and after a moment she set Oba aside, planting a kiss on top of her head as she stood. She passed by Alir, who dozed while they cradled a snoring Api against their chest with one hand.

She nudged them. “Alir, go to bed.”

Alir shifted, opening one eye and squinting up at her. They shook their head. “I’m fine.”

Hellan sighed but didn’t press. She followed Mitth’raw into the kitchen where he was pulling the cookies from the oven and stared at him for a moment. It was strange to see someone other than Alir in the kitchen actually doing something. Stranger still that it was him. Everything in here looked cleaner as well, the dishes put away, the glass she had been using over and over for the past several days cleaned.

“Thank you,” she said. It seemed to be the only thing she could say to him today.

“No thanks are required,” Mitth’raw said, stepping back and frowning down at the cookies. “Particularly since I seem to have done something wrong.”

Hellan peered around him, curious. The cookies on one side of the baking sheet were raw.

“Oh,” she said. “Yes. It does that. You just need to turn it around. And use only half the sheet next time.”

She fought down another surge of shame, but Mitth’raw said nothing. He removed the baked cookies before putting the rest of them back in the oven on the side that actually worked. Hellan leaned against the counter, grateful for even that small bit of support for her body. She still felt moments away from crumbling. She pushed the exhaustion away, as she had so many times before, and swiped her hair out of her eyes.

“Oba likes you,” she said, mostly to get her mind off of how badly she wished she were sleeping. “Generally she doesn’t warm up to people quickly. Or sometimes at all.”

“She seems very gifted,” Mitth’raw said with a small smile.

Hellan nodded. “My parents would have had her in one of the best schools in an instant, but I… I can’t. It’s not an option right now.”

Hellan watched him, waiting, uncertain exactly which reaction she was looking for. Pity. Scorn. Derision. Cruel amusement. He displayed none of them.

“I understand,” he said simply.

A little of the tension drained from Hellan’s body. At least he didn’t pry. Which was a relief because she really had no idea why she was telling him any of this.

Mitth’raw put the baked cookies onto a plate.

“Shall we serve these?” he asked.

Hellan nodded and together they went back out to the sitting area, and Mitth’raw placed the cookies on the floor within reach of everyone. Elena, looking slightly less miserable than she had a few hours ago, grabbed one immediately and took a very careful nibble. Oba took one as well, still immersed in her datapad, eyes moving swiftly across the words on the screen. Hellan glanced at it. She was only able to catch part of a passage on khr’tiin migration patterns before her sister moved on.

She smiled and combed her fingers through Oba’s hair.

Mitth’raw plucked two cookies from the plate and held one out to her.

“Oh no, not right now,” she said, pressing her hand against her stomach. It had been feeling a little off all morning. Not that it came as much of a surprise. “I think I should eat something real first.”

She looked over at Alir. They had nodded off completely, slumped to the side and curled around Api on the cushion. Hellan reached over and shook their knee.

“Alir, go get in bed.”

Alir’s only response was a soft moan and the barest wave of their hand as they curled up tighter.

“You’ll be more comfortable,” she said. “Go.”

Alir didn’t move. Hellan shook her head sadly.

“I remember when I could carry them,” she said to Mitth’raw with a tired huff of laughter.

“Do you believe they would allow me?” he asked.

Hellan hesitated. If Alir hadn’t been sick and running themselves into the ground trying to help her, she might have just told him to leave them where they were. But looking at them crunched up in the nest of the cushion, neck twisted at an awkward angle so their head could find a resting place…

“Alir,” she said, shaking her sibling gently again. “Is it alright if Mitth’raw moves you into your bed?”

Alir made some noise that Hellan took for ascent and she nodded at him.

Mitth’raw stood and gently lifted Alir into his arms, cradling them easily as if they weighed nothing. Hellan got up again as well, ignoring the nauseating rush of dizziness as she did. She led him to the room Alir shared with Elena and Api, and yanked back the quilt on the lower bunk. Mitth’raw slid by her, the quarters so tight that he brushed right up against her body as he passed. He laid Alir down in bed and drew the blankets up, then turned back to Hellan and paused.

For the first time, Hellan realized how close he was. She tried to move back, but the cabin was too small for that, the edge of the kids’ desk pressing into her lower bac. If she leaned forward just slightly, they’d be touching. Instead, she shifted back against the desk as much as she could.

Mitth’raw’s eyes left her and roamed over the artwork on the walls. Mostly Elena’s different scribbled versions of her shooting star, isolated in her earlier drawings and then usually incorporated into something more complex as she aged. He glanced down at the baby’s toys sitting in a small shipping crate that had been crammed into the corner between the desk and the wall, expression thoughtful.

Hellan bit her lip and resisted the urge to politely but swiftly usher him out. There was no point, really. If they kept seeing one another he was going to learn everything eventually. He might as well get some idea now of what he was getting himself in to.

He studied the room for a moment longer and then looked at her again.

“Yuri and Oba sleep elsewhere?”

Hellan nodded. That wasn’t exactly the question she had been expecting. “They’re down the hall.”

She didn’t mention that they were in a closet she had converted for them.

“And you?” he asked.

Hellan shrugged, hoping it looked more nonchalant than it felt. “I sleep where I can. I’ve always been able to get comfortable anywhere.”

She wasn’t sure what she expected as a response to that. She braced herself for contempt and hoped for some light condescension.

Instead, all he said was, “I apologize, then.”

Hellan blinked. “What in the universe for?”

“I assume I woke you from your nap earlier.”

“Oh,” she said. “No. Actually, I wasn’t asleep.” _Yet_.

Mitth’raw’s expression relaxed somewhat. “That is a relief. Then perhaps we should rejoin the children. I promised Oba a story.”

“Of course.”

Hellan waited but he didn’t move and after a long, awkward moment, she did her best to slip past him. Her body pressed against his as she did, and it took everything in her to ignore the phantom feel of him against her after the contact was gone. Trying to get her brain back together, Hellan left the room and led the way back out to where the kids were still crowded together on the cushions.

Elena caught sight of them and heaved a sigh. “Finally. Are you still going to read to us? Being sick is so boring.”

Hellan raised an eyebrow at her. “Maybe you would get better sooner if you stayed in bed.”

Elena gave her an impatient look. This was a conversation they had had more than once over the past few days.

“Bed is _boring_ , Hellan,” she said.

And every time, Elena would give her some variation of that exact answer, as if Hellan were somehow missing out on some universal truth.

“Then I guess you’ll just have to learn some patience,” she said, teasing and yet not.

Elena scrunched up her face in disgust and shook her head, apparently fed up with the discussion.

“I will be happy to read to all of you,” Mitth’raw said, settling back down on one of the unused cushions. “Assuming, of course, that you are still willing to lend me your datapad, Oba?”

Oba nodded but didn’t relinquish it right away, holding up one small finger.

Hellan chuckled and reclaimed her place, stretching out into the space where Alir had been and taking up her bowl of soup. Handing her datapad to Mitth’raw, Oba sidled closer to her and laid down, curling up against Hellan’s stomach like a ksk’purr. Hellan threw her arm around her and pulled her close.

Mitth’raw started to read. His voice was low and soothing, almost hypnotic as he fell into the rhythm. It was a children’s story Hellan had read to them countless times before and it was easy to let the words fade into a buzz. Elena squirmed in her place on the cushions, turning to face Mitth’raw. She muffled a yawn against the back of her hand and finally looked as if she might settle for a bit.

Hellan took another small sip of her soup and then tipped her head back, and shut her eyes.

 

* * *

 

After twenty minutes of reading, Raw looked up to find that everyone but Oba had fallen asleep. Her eyes were closed, but her hand was in Hellan’s hair, fingers twirling through the curled strands, and when he stopped she opened her eyes and studied him. Raw put a finger to his lips and gestured at the others. Oba nodded and carefully sat up. He set the datapad aside, crouched close to her. He likely would not wake the children, but Hellan was another matter and she clearly needed the sleep.

“Can you show me where everyone sleeps?” he whispered.

Oba nodded. With a final touch to Hellan’s cheek, Oba rolled away and pushed herself to her feet. Raw carefully scooped up Api and waited for Oba to lead the way. He took Elena next, concerned he might wake her with the motion. But she only moaned and turned her face into his chest, and when he set her into the narrow bunk above Alir and Api, she quickly rolled up against the wall and threw the blankets over her head.

Yuri was last. When Raw lifted him into his arms, the boy hardly seemed to register it. There was no shifting to find comfort the way the others had. Instead, Yuri’s head lolled back over Raw’s arm, his limbs sprawling so that Raw had to turn sideways to carry him down the hall. Oba waited for him by a door at the end and she gave him a small wave before disappearing through the narrow opening.

Raw followed, carrying Yuri into a space that was no wider than the corridor and barely deep enough for a bed. A line of small animal figurines were arranged carefully on the single low shelf above the bed, and he could see a box of half finished knitting projects and other crafts poking out from beneath it.

Settling Yuri down, Raw quietly stepped back out into the corridor, turning to head back towards the front where Hellan still lay asleep. He felt a tug on his sleeve and stopped, looking down to where Oba stared up at him.

“Can I have another cookie?” she asked.

“Of course.”

Oba wrapped her hand around one of his fingers and walked with him back to the kitchen. He lifted her onto the counter and handed her another cookie, glancing at the oven.

“Oba, I noticed a few manuals on ovens in your datapad. Are you interested in fixing this?”

The little girl shrugged and answered around a mouth full of cookie, crumbs catching on her chin. “I just wanted to know why it’s not working right.”

“And do you have a theory?”

“You mean a hypothethith,” she lisped through her missing teeth.

“My apologies,” he said with a nod and a grin. “You are correct. What is your hypothesis?”

“I think the coils are burned out,” she said. “Hellan will prob’ly have to order new ones when she has time.”

Raw smiled. “I believe that is a sound assumption.”

He looked around the kitchen again. Several of the appliances looked to be worn and out of date, and a few had even been fixed using creative methods, some of them sporting mismatched or makeshift pieces.

_When she has the time, indeed._

Oba slid to the floor and wandered back into the family area. After a moment, Raw followed her. Hellan still slept soundly, the movement of the children having not bothered her. Oba picked her datapad back up and took a cushion next to Hellan. Raw watched, frowning. He had noticed Hellan’s fever the moment he had met her on the ramp and now her color looked off as well.

Kneeling down beside her, he carefully pressed the backs of his fingers against her cheek. Her skin was hot and damp with sweat. It wasn’t surprising. Taking care of five sick children was bound to have caught up with her sooner or later. How long she would have kept pushing herself if he hadn’t come today?

He removed the soup bowl from the cradle of her hands and set it safely aside. Then he shook out one of the many knitted blankets and spread it over her.

“Oba, I have a call to make. Will you watch over your sister?”

Oba nodded. She scooted closer to Hellan and twined her hand back in her hair again.

Raw stepped back into the kitchen and pulled out his comm, tapping a few times to connect with Thrass.

Thrass answered almost immediately. His voice was wry. “Did she kick you out?”

“No.”

There was a stunned silence. “Really? Are you finally in need of some advice, then?”

Raw frowned. Sometimes his brother made very little sense. “On what matter would I ever find your advice valuable?”

An exasperated sigh. “Nevermind. I take it you have a reason for calling?”

“Yes. There are a few things I need you to send over.”

“Such as?”

“A few changes of clothes. More soup if Thumis is willing to make some. And I will send you a list of groceries and medications I believe may be beneficial.”

“Anything else?” Thrass asked dryly.

Raw looked around the cramped quarters of the kitchen, then glanced back out at the tiny family space where he could see Hellan stretched out across the cushions.

“An inflatable mattress.”

“A _mattress_?”

“And blankets and pillows.”

“Raw, what are you…”

“Hellan has contracted the children’s illness,” he said. “I don’t believe it would be prudent for me to leave.”

“All right,” Thrass said slowly, the usual teasing in his voice gone. “I think I can do that. I take it I should have it delivered to the Family compound?”

“No. Docking bay 4234 at the spaceport.”

“A docking bay? What in the universe are you doing there?”

“Evidently, she and the children live on her ship.”

Another silence followed, longer and heavier than the last. Raw checked his comm to make sure the connection had not failed.

“Thrass?”

“I heard you.”

“Is there a problem?”

“No,” he said, but his brother’s voice had taken on a measured quality. Raw didn’t ask. He knew he would likely hear of it later.

“I’ll send everything,” Thrass said when Raw didn’t press further. “It should be delivered in a few hours.”

“Thank you.”

“Raw,” Thrass said then paused. He let out another small sigh. “I hope they all feel better soon.”

“As do I,” Raw said and cut off the connection.

He crossed the kitchen and squatted down in front of the oven again, opening it to find the model number. Then he pulled up the company on his datapad and put in an order for new coils.

Raw spent the rest of the day taking care of the children and keeping an eye on Hellan. Api woke up several times to vomit, but Alir and Elena seemed to be slightly better by the end of the day. The delivery had come from Thrass in the afternoon with enough soup to feed the family for several days. He had set up the inflatable mattress and moved Hellan on to it, lowered the lights, and covered her with blankets, but she had not improved as he had hoped. In fact, she had gotten worse and her fever was starting to reach a level that would be dangerous if he couldn’t bring it down.

“Perhaps she should be taken to a doctor,” he said, mostly to himself, after feeling her forehead again.

Night had fallen some time ago, the lights dimming in the spaceport outside to accommodate all those who were sleeping on their ships.

Alir, who had woken and was sitting nearby eating another bowl of soup, froze with the spoon half way to their mouth. Elena shot a look that was almost panicked at her older sibling.

“No,” Alir said with surprising firmness.

“Hellan’s fever needs to be managed,” Raw said. “She will need medical attention if she becomes worse.”

Elena shifted just slightly so that she was between him and Hellan. Alir reached over and squeezed Elena’s hand, and met Raw’s eyes with a hard stare of their own.

“I said _no_. We don’t do hospitals.”

Raw frowned. Clearly, he was missing something. He looked from Alir’s almost angry expression to Elena’s frightened one. Her face looked slightly ashen.  

“Very well,” he said slowly. “In that case, I will monitor her closely throughout the night. The two of you should get some sleep.”

Neither of them moved.

“You have my word that I will not make any decision on that matter without consulting you first,” he reassured them.

Alir held his gaze, as if they intended to burn that promise into him by letting it hang. Finally, they nodded and stood up. Casting one more worried look at Hellan, Alir led Elena back to their cabin.

Raw watched them go and then settled down beside Hellan, stretching out beside her on the mattress, careful not to rock her too much. He reached out and felt her forehead again, pushing a few strands of sweaty hair off her forehead.

She slept fitfully through the night. He stroked her hair and sincerely hoped he would not have to take drastic action.

 

* * *

 

Bizarre memories flitted through Hellan’s head. There was something soft beneath her, like a bed, only that couldn’t be right because she hadn’t slept in a proper bed in years. She remembered hands on her forehead. Brushing hair off her face. Which wouldn’t have been so strange if the hands hadn’t been large and cool, too big for even Alir. Mitth’raw was there, and that, too, that made no sense. She had foggy memories of him finding her in the spaceport, of him being there just before she had fallen asleep. Reading. And something about soup. But surely he wouldn’t still be there. No one would have stayed this long. And the dream she had had of waking up in the middle of the night to him lying stretched out and shirtless next to her on the floor was nothing but pure delusion. Along with the others of kissing him. Running her hands down his chest. Feeling his lips against her neck...

Hellan blinked open eyes that felt too heavy. Her head was pounding and her mouth felt disgustingly dry, with the acidic taste of bile still lingering on her tongue. Had she thrown up? She couldn’t remember. She didn’t really remember anything after she had fallen asleep, and even the hours before that, when Raw had been there were dim and out of focus.

She tried to sit up. And realized that the softness beneath her wasn’t some remnant of a dream. She was actually in a bed. Or something very close to one. An inflatable mattress? What in the universe…?

“Hellan! You’re awake!”

Hellan rolled over onto her back to find that she wasn’t alone. The kids were all there. And so was Mitth’raw. She stared at him for a long time, wondering briefly if she weren’t still dreaming, but some expression ghosted across his face that looked too strained to be part of a fantasy. He gave her a small smile.

Elena practically dove across the room and onto the mattress with her, snuggling into her arms.

“We were so worried!” she said, burying her face against Hellan’s shoulder.

Hellan wrapped her arms around her little sister and squeezed. Anyone else might have missed the slight tremor in Elena’s words, but Hellan heard it.

“It’s all right,” she said. Her voice cracked painfully in her throat. She cleared it and tried again, more carefully. “How long was I…?”

“Three days.” It was Mitth’raw who answered. Hellan glanced at him and then looked quickly away again. The fact that he was still there snagged in her mind. It was… difficult to believe. The memories from her dreams weren’t helping. And they _were_ dreams. All of it. Except for him actually being here, apparently. Maybe he had left and come back.

Hellan grimaced. Three days. No wonder Alir looked so pale. And that familiar tightness around their eyes was even worse than usual.

A sinking thought occurred to her. The delivery. She had missed it. Frustration bit sharply into her and twisted deep.  Missing a shipment was _not_ something she could afford, and it wasn’t just the matter of the money. Not showing up to a trade with no word of apology or explanation was a serious black mark against her reputation, and in her business, reputation meant a lot.

She swallowed it down, though. The kids were upset enough at the moment, and she refused to give Alir something else to worry about. She would take care of it later.

“I’m okay,” she said and reached out to the others. Yuri, Oba, and Api all joined her and Elena on the mattress but Alir remained fixed where they were, stubbornly solid as always. Hellan would have to pull them aside later and make sure they were okay. She finally looked at Mitth’raw.

“Have you… been here the whole time?” she asked. Which answer did she fear getting more?

“I have.”

“He slept with you,” Yuri says.

“Oh,” she said. Her voice came out thin. The memory of him lying shirtless next to her then...

“How are you feeling?” He asked, interrupting her thoughts.

Hellan pushed those images from her mind and gave herself a mental shake. “Fine. Better.” She frowned and rubbed her hand over her stomach as she realized that wasn’t entirely true. “Starving, actually.”

Alir got up and disappeared into the kitchen so fast Hellan didn’t have time to tell them not to worry about it. Yes. She was definitely going to have to get them alone later.

She sat up, ignoring the lightheadedness but propping her back against the wall just in case. She noticed the half finished game sitting on the floor, abandoned now that she was awake.

“What are you playing?” she asked no one in particular.

“Pastry Planet. It was Raw’s idea,” Oba said.

“To distract us,” Elena said, as if the effort had been cute but ultimately pointless.

Hellan felt a surge of gratitude. When was the last time she had been able to depend on anyone else to take care of the kids for even an afternoon? Let alone three days while she lay sick and unconscious?

“Mitth’raw, I---”

Mitth’raw held up a hand. “I would not have left the children alone. Or you, for that matter.”

There was something in his tone, a question he wasn’t voicing. Hellan had a feeling she knew what it was, especially if she had been as bad as she thought, but she wasn’t quite ready to have that conversation yet.

Mitth’raw didn’t press. Instead, he quickly and efficiently packed away the game, then stretched over from where he sat to put it away on one of the many low shelves she had mounted to the wall years ago; his shirt pulled up and showed a flash of blue skin. Another memory crashed into Hellan’s head. Something about a shower. A cold spray of water. Large hands pressed firmly against her stomach, a solid body behind her.

Hellan shook herself. Fever dreams. Just fever dreams.

Alir returned from the kitchen and handed her another bowl of soup. Hellan’s stomach cramped greedily and she almost wished it were something more substantial, even if she probably wouldn’t be able to eat much of it. But she took the bowl anyway and sipped at it. It was hot and felt good going down. She got through half of it before she realized that everyone, including Mitth’raw, was watching her. She swallowed self-consciously. She wasn’t used to being the object of so much attention. How sick had she been?

“I think I’m well enough, Mitth’raw,” she said, desperate to gain some of her footing back. “You don’t need to stay.”

Mitth’raw tilted his head. “Do you wish for me to leave?”

Hellan didn’t answer at first. Did she?

“No!” Yuri shouted. “He promised to cook with me in the new oven.”

Hellan choked on her next sip of soup. “The new _what?_ ”

“Yuri!” Oba hissed, shooting a rare but not uncharacteristic glare at her brother.

Raw spread his hands placatingly. “It is not new. Only repaired.”

“You… you fixed my oven?” she asked.

“It was Oba’s endeavour,” Raw said, glancing at her sister. “I merely ordered the necessary parts and assisted.”

Oba looked disappointed. “It was supposed to be a surprise.”

Hellan laughed. She couldn’t help it. She pulled Oba close and gave her a tight squeeze. “It is.” She kissed the top of Oba’s head and caught Mitth’raw’s eyes again over the heads of the children.

He met her gaze and bowed his head.

“But really,” she said. “You don’t need to stay here.”

“But--” Yuri started.

“Yuri, he’s been here for three days. I’m sure Mitth’raw would like to spend time with his own family before his leave is up.”

“Actually, I would prefer to remain here if that is acceptable,” Mitth’raw said. Hellan stared at him and he lifted one shoulder. “It is clear you are still recovering and need more rest.”

“We don’t really have room…” she said, trailing off. That wasn’t exactly the case, was it?

“I have no issue with our previous nights’ sleeping arrangements.”

Oh. Oh, that couldn’t be a good idea. Having him sleep beside her when she was sick and unconscious was one thing. Being aware of it… she doubted she would sleep at all.

And yet, somehow, she found herself nodding. It had been a long time, so long, since she had been anything but alone in all of this. Alir tried. But they were still young, still a child, and Hellan would be damned if she let them go down the same path she had chosen, the one that had demanded everything from her without mercy. She didn’t regret it. Not really. How could she when it had kept her family intact? But it was the last thing she wanted for any of them.

And Mitth’raw was right. She felt exhausted. In so many ways. Maybe, just for a few days, she could let someone else carry things. It was the first time since she had met him that she felt almost sure this was the right decision. If this worked out… Well, it wouldn’t be everything. But it would be enough.

“Excellent,” Raw said. “In that case, Yuri, would you like to select a recipe?”

“Yes!” Yuri practically squealed, rolling frantically off the mattress and stumbling in his haste to get into the kitchen.

“Wait!” Elena shouted. She jumped up and ran after him. “Yuri, don’t pick anything with onions!”

“I like onions!” He shouted back.

“Nobody likes onions,” Elena countered. “They’re gross!”

“They are beautiful and delicious,” Yuri said defensively.

They continued to bicker, voices carrying from the kitchen as they argued over what to make. Oba and Api shifted closer. Hellan hugged them both again, and looked up again to see that Alir had retaken their previous spot in the corner.

“Oba, why don’t you go into the kitchen with Mitth’raw and see if you can be the mediator between those two. Take Api with you.”

“Okay,” she said. She turned and planted a kiss on Hellan’s forehead, then stood and took Api by the hand, pulling him into the kitchen. Mitth’raw lingered for only a moment, eyes darting to Alir, before he stood and followed.

When they were alone, or as alone as they could be in this ship, Hellan carefully got to her feet. Her legs were shaky and she had to put a hand against the wall to steady herself. She made her way over to Alir, picking a careful path around the cushions. It almost looked as if some of the kids had camped out in here as well. She sat down heavily next to Alir, and tucked some of their hair behind their ear when they didn’t look at her. That was all it took. Alir’s expression crumpled and they fell sideways into Hellan’s arms, buried their face against Hellan’s shoulder, and sobbed. Hellan held them for a long while, hoping Mitth’raw understood, hoping he would keep the other children busy in the kitchen.

He didn’t disappoint.

“It’s okay,” she whispered. She rubbed Alir’s back and stroked their hair. “We’re all going to be okay.”

She was going to make sure of it.

 

* * *

 

A part of him had been waiting for it. Raw had slept next to Hellan every night, recreating the circumstances as exactly as he could. He was starting to think it had been an isolated incident.

Then, the night before he was supposed to leave, it happened again. Hellan had finally dropped off to sleep about an hour before and everything around them was still and silent. He felt her warm hand slide onto his chest, her fingers wandering as if searching for something. When she finally found his nipple, their meandering ceased and her fingers remained there, lazily circling. Thrawn opened his eyes and peered at her through the darkness. Just like the first time, her body lay slack against his side, her breath puffed evenly against his ribs.

He had taken it for some manifestation of the illness before. This was evidence to the contrary. He focused on the unfamiliar sensations for a moment; the softness of the skin of her arms contrasted with her calloused palms, the rhythmic anticipation of a spark that ran through his body down to his toes. How interesting. This time, instead of gently sliding her hand away, he simply shut his eyes again.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A special thanks to Prince Charming from SNL's The Real Housewives of Disney for giving life to the voice of the Nuruodo jack-ass Raw meets in this chapter. Seriously, go back and read his lines with that voice in mind. It makes everything so much better.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took so long. Depression was not good to me this month. (Then again, when is it ever?) But now thanks to new meds, I am on the mend. Hopefully you all enjoy this chapter.

Warm air puffed against the back of Hellan’s neck as she blinked awake into the morning light; her skin tingled as Thrawn peppered kisses along the top of her spine then buried his face into her nape.    

She arched her back and stretched. He made a little murmur of protest and he pulled her closer until her soft body molded to his. Within the circle of his arms, she pivoted slightly, angled her face over her shoulder, and his mouth descended over hers in answer.

Both their breaths were stale. But it was morning and she was starved for him, so stale or not she was more than happy to satiate her hunger.

He was more than happy to oblige. Her husband always was.

“Good morning,” she said with a grin when he finally pulled away to breathe. 

“I’ve been waiting for you,” he said, his voice still a little hoarse from sleep.

“So this is an ambush?”

“Indeed,” he replied, gently easing her on to her back. He propped himself up on an elbow and just looked at her. It was something he did often.

When they had first married, she had been self conscious about the intensity of his stare. She had winced as he cataloged the unevenness of her skin, her squat forehead, every enlarged pore and blemish. Even after 32 years of marriage Hellan didn’t know what he saw that was different from the flabby, wild haired woman cursed with rosacea that she saw in the mirror every day, but his fascination was enough to make her feel like the most beautiful person in the galaxy.

Then after minutes of just staring, he began. His fingertips traced the line of her hair, her almost non-existent ridges, the lines in the corners of her eyes, reverently. 

He had always had problems vocalizing his feelings. Instead, he showed his affection in tangible ways. When she had first met him he had done this by helping her with her siblings, and as they eased into a physical relationship, he had still remained sparse when discussing his emotions, but had reaffirmed them through constant touching. In every spare moment he wanted to tell her with his body that he loved her. Even so, he had been incredibly... enthusiastic since arriving. She wondered what was bothering him. Was he having trouble letting Eli go?

_ Oh Eli. _ Her heart almost broke thinking about him. From the moment Thrawn had landed, an unending pattern of eagerness, confusion, jealousy, and guilt had taken turns rolling over Eli’s face. She knew those emotions all too well. The poor boy had been in love with Thrawn for years and her husband had been too oblivious to notice. In it’s own way, that was a blessing. She had first hand experience on how Thrawn’s denseness could wreak havoc on a sensitive person, and Eli wore his emotions on his sleeve. But now Hellan was here. She couldn’t give Eli a perfect happy ending, but she could at least give him some closure. 

Or she had attempted to anyway. Much to her surprise, instead of taking advantage of the situation, Eli had overreacted. The Empire was more repressed than she had ever imagined. She worried for a minute that she had been mistaken.

Then last night, she had heard the noises coming from his room. Unmistakable noises. He had come seconds after Thrawn. Or she assumed he had, to make a sound like that. 

Hellan had over 35 years of experience with male latent sexual desire. That she could work with. 

“What are you smiling about?” Thrawn asked, tracing the crease of her mouth.

“Eli.”

“Oh?”

“He masturbated last night to the sound of us. I bet he comes out to the kitchen this morning looking all sheepish.”

“Why sheepish?”

“Because I’ve raised enough boys to know what they look like when they’ve been found out. You used to have the same look sometimes when we slept over at your brother’s house.”

“I was so obvious?” he drawled. His finger trailed down the bridge of her nose, over her lips then curled around and up her jaw. “You must have been curious. Shall I demonstrate what fantasies I imagined those nights when you couldn’t join me in my bed?”

She squirmed. “If you’d like.”

His eyes never left her face as he ran his hand between her breasts and down over the rolls of her stomach. He slowed as his palm moved over the crisp hair over her mons, she knew he loved the change in texture, he then glided two long fingers down her labia and slid them inside of her. 

She arched again, this time rolling her hips in encouragement. Instead of protest, he groaned in pleasure. He slid his fingers out, smiling at the wetness on them, and spread it over her nipples in slow circles. Then, his breath puffing in little gasps, he leaned over and took her left nipple into his mouth. 

_ Oh, you wicked man _ , she thought as he strummed the nipple not currently occupied by his mouth. He knew her breasts were incredibly sensitive, and she could sometimes come just from this. Particularly when his tongue did _ that _ .

Stars, she missed this. Missed him. How many mornings like this would they have together? Hellan knew he would only be here a few more days, but how many more years of furtive meetings would there be until he came home? Would he ever be coming home? They had made memories here: Thapin’s wedding, Theron’s first steps, but she would burn the place down in a second if he said he would return to their cramped, noisy house on Copero. She wanted to etch every touch into her skin so she could carry a part of him back with her. 

It was as if he heard her thoughts. He danced his palms around her hips and over her thighs, pressing against every inch of her as if he could brand her through pure intent. And then his fingers were inside her, his thumb stroking her clitoris in calligraphic swirls until she tensed, crying out.

“This is the reason my hairline is receding,” he said with a smile as her breathing resumed and enough sense had returned so she could unclench her hands from his head. He placed a kiss against her shoulder in thanks. 

An hour later, Hellan stood in front of the stove with those hands still on her, palms rubbing small circles over her back and hips. He bent over her shoulder a few times to kiss at her collarbone and nuzzle her neck. It wasn’t until his hands started to work their way up over her stomach that she swatted him away and put him to work cutting vegetables. 

She glanced over her shoulder and noticed Eli creeping into the kitchen. She smiled at the sheepish expression on his face. She had told Thrawn as much. He was probably thankful they weren’t having sex in the kitchen. She hadn’t meant to be all over Thrawn yesterday morning but he had done the THING with her ear, and that jerk knew she fell for it every time. Her brain had been mush when he had sat back in his chair and pulled her on top of him. 

Eli had stopped a few feet away, and was looking at Thrawn skeptically, as if the concept of Thrawn cooking was foreign. 

“Oh don’t worry Eli, Thrawn’s just cutting vegetables. I wouldn’t expose you to the torture of his cooking. If you’d like you can help with the table.”

“My culinary skills are perfectly adequate,” Thrawn said.

“Heating something up out of a can doesn’t count,” she replied.

Eli chuckled and turned to grab the silverware. Good. That had lightened the mood a little at least.  They continued to cook while Eli set the table. He had to reach past her at some point to get to the dishes, and lightened mood or not she could still feel the tension in his body as he drew near.

Thrawn finished the vegetables and scooped them into the pan. Hellan folded the egg over them. Eli had finished and was standing next to the table, his gaze wandering about the room but never landing directly on them as he shifted back and forth. Hellan frowned and turned back to Thrawn.

“Love, would you mind helping Eli make some toast?”

Thrawn cocked an eyebrow at her.

“I can handle toast,” Eli said, confusion in his tone. “If you need me to.”

Hellan turned and gave him a conspiratorial look. “It’s not you I’m worried about. Thrawn and toasters have never gotten along.”

“I am more than willing to wait in the living room if my presence is so counterproductive.” Only years of familiarity allowed Hellan to hear the extremely subdued note of petulance in that smooth voice.

She shook her head in exasperated amusement. 

“Oh no,” she said. “You’re not getting out of this that easily. Now go on.”

Thrawn slid the cutting board and knife into the sink and obediently moved to where Eli was already shaking bread out of the bag and putting it in the toaster. Hellan watched them out of the corner of her eye. Eli was all tense hard lines. Thrawn stood beside him almost as if nothing were amiss, but she saw the way he carefully worked beside Eli, never allowing any part of them to touch. It was what he did when he was trying to distance himself from something he didn’t understand, when he wanted perspective.

_ Oh, that’s not going to go over well at all. _ Apparently a little more direct intervention was going to be needed.

Hellan flipped the omelettes one more time to make sure they were cooked on both sides, then slid them out onto the serving platter and switched the stove off. By the time she set the platter on the table, Thrawn and Eli had finished with the toast. Eli carried over a plate of mostly burnt pieces of bread and set it down hastily. Hellan stared at it and lifted one eyebrow; if things hadn’t been so precarious, that would have earned them a morning of relentless teasing. 

Hellan took a plate and scooped one of the omelettes onto it before passing it to Eli. She did the same for Thrawn and herself. When she sat down, she noticed that Thrawn and Eli both eyed the toast skeptically. Neither one of them seemed willing to reach for it. Eli broke first, dropping a piece onto his plate that was so hard it bounced. Hellan bit her tongue to keep the laughter in, but it was almost impossible when Thrawn followed suit, pinching one and setting it on his plate with a glare, as if it were the bread’s fault for staying in the toaster too long. 

Hellan continued to watch as the two of them reluctantly buttered their toast. Thrawn did so with a resigned air. Eli nearly smeared half the container on it in some futile attempt to force moisture back into the bread. Hellan masked a laugh with a cough and shook her head. She kept her own plate toast free and took a bite of her omelette. She waited, but neither of them made eye contact, both of them remaining hunched over their plates with shamed expressions. Even with the heaviness hovering on the periphery, Hellan felt she had won an argument, and that was always satisfying.      

She studied Eli and thought about how to best broach the subject of yesterday’s mishap. She had been able to watch him unobserved on more than one occasion in the past few weeks, but she had never had much reason to really  _ look _ at him before. He wasn’t particularly handsome according to Chiss standards: he looked younger than his years and his hair was wavy, but his features were even, and his skin was clear. His eyes did not have the same glow Chiss eyes had, but they were kind and once Hellan had learned to read them, very expressive.  _ He’s almost pretty…. Like one of those pieces of art Thrawn loves so much.  _

Her husband looked like a piece of art himself, even at their age. He had joked about his hairline earlier, but the severeness only accentuated his expansive brow and the regal gauntness of his face. He took his job in the military seriously and kept himself incredibly fit.  

The problem, she realized, wasn’t Thrawn. 

“Are you alright?” Eli asked, his head snapping up from his plate.

“Oh yes, of course.” She waved her hand at him. “Just something caught in my throat.” She hadn't even noticed she had made a sound. Thrawn’s eyes glued to her and she shook her head slightly. He pressed his lips together, his nostrils flared in displeasure. It was an expression she hadn’t seen for a long time. 

All those amazing feelings from earlier disappeared in a rush, and she was a twenty year old girl again. Only she wasn’t twenty. Far from it. She was an old, ugly woman. A mother, a grandmother even. A crone who basically had propositioned a young, beautiful man. No wonder Eli had been disgusted! She would have felt the same in his position. 

_ Focus Hellan _ , she thought.  _ This has nothing to do with you. This is between Eli and his broken heart and your blind, stubborn husband _ .

Now both of the men were watching her. Eli’s brow was furrowed in confusion, his hands frozen in the midst of cutting up his omelette, waiting for her to say something more. Thrawn, on the other hand, bored his eyes into her as if he could command her to reveal her feelings with his gaze.  _ So much for an easy transition.  _

“I wanted to apologize Eli, for last night,” Hellan said. “I shouldn’t have pushed you. I was unaware that…” she sighed. “In our society nudity isn’t something to be ashamed of… sex is seen as natural…”  _ In most cases. _

Thrawn’s jaw clenched. Damnit. She was making a hash of this. 

“I still think you should proceed. It’ll be very beneficial,” she continued. “What would make it easier for you?”

Eli poked at his toast with his fork and shrugged, his face heating.  “It’s not that…. It’s just…”

Suddenly, the air was back in Hellan’s lungs. “Your affection for Thrawn is making you feel awkward and guilty,” she said nodding.

Eli’s eyes widened, and for the first time since this conversation had started, Thrawn’s attention finally wavered off of her. He looked at Eli, his eyebrows raised.

“I… I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he said, throwing a glance at Thrawn and looking swiftly away again.

Hellan nodded. Denial or no, it was out in the open now. There was no more hiding from it for any of them. Thrawn had always responded well to directness. Perhaps now they could sort this out between them. She stood and patted Eli on the shoulder, and left the room.

* * *

_ They’re the same person _ , Eli thought, as he sat at the dining room table facing Thrawn, his mouth slack. He should have suspected something after she had marshalled him and Thrawn into making toast. What surprised Eli was that Thrawn was the milder of the pair. Hellan had lulled him into a false sense of security with those soft touches and that wine-laced giggle of hers that made him feel like he was floating. All so she could announce to Thrawn…. Her husband… that Eli had… had…. That he felt stuff. 

Eli glanced up and found Thrawn wearing the familiar attentive, placid expression he assumed when waiting for Eli to answer one of his questions. As if he was waiting on Eli’s analysis of a tactical maneuver. After several minutes of silence in which Eli seriously considered the probability of him turning into a piece of burnt toast,Thrawn spoke.

“How long have you been struggling with this?” He asked, his voice filled with genuine curiosity.

“Since my promotion to Lieutenant Commander,” Eli muttered into the table.

Thrawn’s lips curled upwards. He shook his head and smiled in a way Eli had witnessed sometimes after they had encountered some puzzle from Nightswan... as if Thrawn had been delightfully outsmarted. It passed soon enough and Thrawn's attention returned to Eli.

“Why didn’t you say anything? Or was it perhaps you did not want to violate any fraternization rules?”

“That's part of it,” Eli replied. Part of a multitude of reasons: namely rejection. “Besides, it wouldn't have mattered. You're married.”

“I suppose,” Thrawn said. “Although that is not an issue if you agree to continue with this. I hope I can prove to be an adequate instructor.”

“You mean you’d be… interested?

“I am not opposed to the idea.”

Eli frowned. “Well that's flattering.”

Thrawn steepled his fingers over his plate. “I misspoke.” He inclined his head in Eli's direction in apology. “I know I am deficient in this area.”

“Deficient?” From what Eli had been hearing through his walls, Thrawn was anything but. Did he mean interactions between men? No, that didn't sound right.

“Hellan has confirmed that I am inept in verbally expressing myself in these types of situations.” A thought came to him. “Perhaps, I should concentrate on areas where I have more expertise.” He pressed his palms to the table and rose from his chair. Eli almost unconsciously stood as well. Thrawn rounded the table his fingers grazing along the edge. Then those fingers were on Eli, sliding across his cheek into his hair, bending his head back as Thrawn stooped down and covered Eli's lips with his own.

Thrawn kissed as he mentored: with an almost laser like precision, but firmly, calmly coaxing Eli to discover something new about about their situation, and to do something about it. Eli acquiesced. He tangled his arms around Thrawn and pulled him down further. It must have been uncomfortable, but Eli didn't care. His body was pressed against Thrawn's and his mouth was on Thrawn's who ran his tongue against the back of Eli's teeth, and any remaining thoughts in Eli’s head dissipated into vacuum.

Except one. 

He jerked his mouth away and Thrawn straightened.

“I apologize. I consumed too much of the toast this morning. I should have brushed my teeth before…”

“No, that's not it.” Eli glanced at the doorway. “Is Hellan coming back?”

“I believe she assumed your interest was in me alone.” A look flashed over Thrawn's face almost identical to the haunted expression Hellan had worn the night before.  _ Foolproof,  _ she had called herself. There was an ancient hurt there, but Eli was almost certain she had not decided on anything until that moment at breakfast. Thrawn had been visibly upset. Eli felt ashamed. Hadn't he thought she was homely until he had opened his damn eyes?

“Would you be offended if I said that might not be the case?”

The smile Thrawn gave him sent an electric thrill down to his toes. “Not in the slightest.”

Eli spun and headed back into the kitchen, but she wasn't there. She wasn’t in the living area or her bedroom. She wasn’t in the house at all. He found her on Thrawn's ship in the cargo hold, squinting over figures on a datapad. She blinked up in confusion as Eli braced himself in the doorway, gasping for breath.

“Oh Eli, is everything alright?” He had already become accustomed to her enough to notice the slight tremble in her voice. “I was just cataloging some inventory Thrawn----”

“It was your hands.”

“What?”

“Last night. It was your hands that I imagined on me as I touched myself.”

Hellan’s eyes went wide and round like twin moons. Then slowly, like a sunrise, the shadow hidden in her features gave way to the light of her smile. Her lips parted and he took that as an invitation to kiss her as he closed the distance between them. 


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A little bit astronomy lesson, a little Chiss culture, a lot of kids.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was a long time in coming thanks to depression, and a rough semester. Hope everyone is having a Happy Holiday!

_ Dear Mitth’raw, _

_ Hellan is acting weird. I’m afraid she’s going to end up sick again. Please help. -Alir _

 

 

Sunlight strobed through tree branches as Raw maneuvered his speeder along the winding mountain road. His destination was several hours out of town, far away from any light pollution that would obscure the night sky. He had been counting on that time alone to ease the tension out of his shoulders and mind, but even after two hours of travel the tightness still lingered, digging like barbs caught beneath his skin. He thought back to the conversation that had occurred the day before with his brother, and grimaced. 

Thrass hadn’t even taken a seat as he entered the conference room on Raw’s ship  _ The Springhawk _ , but grimaced down at Raw, who was seated at the table. Raw was reminded of all those times as a young boy where he had been rebuked by his older brother after doing something foolish; apparently, just sharing the same room was enough to earn that expression now. 

“You’d better have a good reason for this,” his brother said.

“I need you to arrange for me to take an urgent leave,” Raw said. As irresponsible as it was, the Chiss fought no wars; his job was largely ceremonial in nature and either consisted of patrolling the outer rim of the Ascendancy or escorting a Mitth Aristocra on their meaningless promenades to and from Csilla. His crew could sufficiently handle anything in his absence, and there were plenty of people with powerful families who took leave from military duty due to “family obligations”. His brother, a Syndic, could easily authorize such a thing. 

“That’s what you called me in for? Don’t you normally complain about officers who pull strings to take an unscheduled leave?”

“One of the children sent me a letter. They believe Hellan might be in trouble. I think this warrants my attention.”

Thrass sighed and finally took a seat. “Raw, perhaps you should exercise more caution with this.”

“What do you mean? These types of leave are commonplace.”

His brother rubbed his forehead. “I meant with the girl. I looked into her financial situation like you asked.”

“How bad is it?”

“It’s not good. Her not living with the rest of the family was also a warning sign, so I took the liberty of asking around. Her reputation is worse than I thought. She is spoken poorly of. One of her siblings even bit someone. The only reason they are tolerated is….”

"I only wished to hear about the debt and you started rambling about nonsense. How much is it?"

Thrass named a figure.  It was outrageous, approximately the same amount of money that Raw would earn in five years of service.

"I'm sorry Raw, but I think this was a bad idea. The girl is used to rejection, she'll be able to brush it off...."

"What are you implying?" 

Thrass went silent at the tone of Raw's voice. His eyes widened . "You can't be serious."

"Why do people keep assuming I am not serious about this?"

Thass sighed and placed his palms on the table. "I get it. You see those kids and you see us when we were younger and think maybe you can spare them the hardship we had to go through. Don't let your savior complex get in the way of sense."

"I think you're mistaking sense for your ambition."

"If I didn't know you better, I'd think you got your first taste of cunt and it's addled your brain."

Raw rose from his chair. "Let me make myself clear. Hellan and I are compatible. I have formed attachments to her siblings. Unless Hellan herself calls off the arrangement I'm going to marry her, and I find myself becoming increasingly less patient of those who would suggest my future wife is anything but suitable. Even if that person is you."

Instead of balking, his brother leaned back in his chair and raised an eyebrow. 

"Future wife?” Thrass drawled. “Should I start pricing floral arrangements?"

"You know I routinely realize the best course of action before anyone else does, this matter is no different. I just need to give her time to get used to the idea. She'll let me know when she's ready."

Thrass rolled his eyes. "Why not ask her and get it over with?"

Thrawn clenched his fists. He knew exactly why he had been reticent. Hellan tolerated his quirks and seemed, for the most part, amiable but she still maintained a firm distance between them. Even after a week spent in her house, he knew almost nothing about her. His superior observational skills had acquired very little information, other than a penchant for knitting colorful blankets. She still sent little notes to him occasionally. The messages were getting longer, but more of her was disappearing from each note she sent. 

Raw knew he was quite a bit to deal with, and the last thing he wanted to do was push her into anything out of desperation.  A small part of him worried that she would say no. That ultimately, she didn't really want this... Him. 

He would show her that he could be a good helpmeet and provider. He would take care of things, that way when she chose him, she would be choosing a partnership out of her own volition instead out of necessity.

Thrawn took a deep breath and slowly unclenched his hands. "Meet her, Thrass, before you judge her."

“I’m just trying to look out for you.” This was Thrass’ usual mantra when he disagreed with Raw’s opinion. 

“And I would request that you trust me to make my own decisions.” 

“Even when those decisions are idiotic?”

He frankly was tired of Thrass' earful. So what if Thrass had visited the Nuruodo house? What did he care about relative rank? They had both been born commoners. Were suddenly their own mother and father less than them because they had died common? Luxury and ambition had blinded his brother. Then to imply there were problems with Hellan's siblings? Did his brother forget what people used to say about Raw when he was young? What they still said about him on occasion?

“I have no interest in debating this with you any longer,” Raw said. “Will you do as I ask or not?”

Thrass’s mouth pressed into a thin line and for a moment he looked as though he were going to say something else. The moment passed, though, and he let out a sharp, irritated breath. “Fine. I’ll see what I can do.”

His brother had managed to do something, which was more than could usually be said about him. After a few quick stops to handle some business, Raw had departed, heading towards the coordinates provided in Alir’s message.  

The message frankly, had frightened him. He remembered her fever two months prior. It had reached critical levels. The fever had driven her to delirium. The children had rebelled against professional medical help, and he had resorted to desperate methods such as pulling her into a cold shower and letting the icy water blast them until his teeth had chattered. She needed to take better care of her health, and according to Alir she was on her way to overworking herself into another illness.  

He would not let that happen. He gripped the speeder controls and fought to let the image of her face, beaded with sweat, fade from his mind.  

  
  


* * *

 

Oba tugged on Hellan’s sleeve. “Mitth’raw is coming soon, right?”

Hellan put down the torquescrew and looked down at her sister. “Honey, Mitth’raw isn’t joining us today. He’s busy.”

“No, he isn’t,” Oba replied with odd certainty. Beside her, Alir paled. 

The thought of seeing Mitth’raw again had been a source of anxiety for Hellan lately. He had treated the whole incident a couple of months ago as if nothing had been out of the ordinary, but she hadn’t been prepared for him to see her like that. And she had definitely not been prepared to see  _ him _ . In the minutes as they prepared for bed he had walked shirtless around her home, years’ worth of military sculpted muscle on perfect display, never mind the scant centimeters between them once they had settled down for the night. It had taken her two days to even be able to fall asleep with  _ that _ lying next to her. 

She shook herself.

_ He probably would enjoy this, though,  _ she thought, looking at the half erected telescope in front of her. Mitth’raw seemed to like all their outings together, but seemed rather pleased by any activities that involved enriching the children’s minds. This certainly would qualify.

At least twice a year she and the children made a habit of traveling up into the Coperan mountains and camping under the stars. This was the one thing Hellan did for herself and considering the past few months of working double time to make up for her missed shipment, she deserved it. Tonight was special though, they were just in time for the Warrior’s Arrows. The comet associated with them had passed by recently as well, so the meteor shower should be good as the debris associated with its tail littered Copero’s sky.

“Why don’t you look up some information on the constellations we’ll be seeing tonight, Oba,” she suggested. 

She had to keep the younger ones occupied while she finished the last few preparations. Elena and Yuri had just finished setting up the protectofence. Alir had helped her with the fire, and had started the stew. They were now setting out the sleeping platforms and bags, their eyes darting around nervously, constantly checking on the younger ones and making sure they kept far enough from the flames. If worse came to worst, all of them could sleep aboard the ship, but she preferred the outdoors, even as cold as it would be tonight. 

Hellan had finished aligning the telescope, when the sound of a speeder engine caught her attention. She scowled. She had hoped to be alone with the kids, but should have suspected company up in the mountains on a clear night with astronomical phenomenon. Thankfully there was only one road up to their camp so she’d be able to see them coming if they decided to travel this far up. 

As the sun started to set behind the peak, throwing their side of the mountain into shadow, the speeder turned around the bend and came into sight. It didn’t slow until it reached the perimeter of her fence, and the helmeted driver killed the engine and dismounted.  

There was only one man she knew with that height and those shoulders, but she was praying otherwise.

The driver took off his helmet.  _ So much for prayers _ . Hellan thought. 

“Elena can you let Mitth’raw in the fence?”

Her sister squealed in excitement and ran over to where Mitth’raw stood, unloading his speeder. Mitth’raw accepted the hug Elena gave him with a smile, then offered his wrist so she could fasten the sensor around it. 

He walked into the camp and the other children crowded him excitedly. 

“I losth another toof!” Oba exclaimed.

Mitth’raw nodded and offered his congratulations as he stooped down and picked up Api who had his arms outstretched and was yelling “Miffa!” at the top of his lungs. He made his way over to Hellan. She fought to keep from smiling at the scene of Mitth’raw trying to wade through a herd of her siblings until he decided to look her over with a frown. 

He had done this the last time he had seen her as well, right after he had boarded her ship. He didn’t bother to hide how disappointed he was everytime he laid eyes on her. His eyes fixated on the dark circles under her eyes, the swollen irritated skin of her cheeks and the scaly, cracked, rash spreading across her arms. She pushed down her sleeves as he examined her. She hoped this wouldn’t become a habit. The last thing she needed was a constant reminder of how inadequate she was. 

“What are you doing here?” She crossed her arms tightly over her chest and didn’t bother to smooth the irritation out of her tone. “I thought you didn’t have another leave for a while. And how did you know we would be here?”

Mitth’raw took a step back and slowly set Api back down. His eyes flicked over Hellan once more. “I was in the area.”

Apparently, he thought she was stupid in addition to hideous. “You were in the area? Up in the middle of nowhere in the mountains? And you expect me to believe that?”

“Would you prefer that I leave?”

“Don’t go!” Elena yelled, grabbing his arm. 

Hellan couldn’t look him in the face. Instead, she concentrated on her sister’s grip on Mitth’raw’s arm. She sighed. 

“No, it’s fine.” She shook her head.  

“Is there anyway I can assist?”

Hellan nodded towards the campfire. “Watch the stew and the fire while I put my tools away?”

Mitth’raw nodded and turned to crouch by the fire. He lifted the lid off the stewpot and peered inside, poking around with the long handled spoon Elena offered him. Another time, the look of sharp focus on his face probably would have been hilarious. Not now.

Hellan turned her back to him and slammed her hydrospanner and torquewrench into her toolbox and shut the lid. She marched past him, eyes averted, stomped up the ramp of her ship, shoved her toolbox on the over-crowded storage shelf, and slumped back against the wall. Tears of frustration welled up in the corner of her eyes. 

What the hell was he doing here? How had he even known where to find them? One of the kids must have said something, but she couldn’t figure out when or why. This was supposed to be her one perfect day, the first she had had in a long time, and he had gone and wrecked it.

She didn’t get him. Worse, she didn’t like the tangled mess of feelings that had recently taken residence in her chest. Things between them were usually so easy, he seemed to be fond of her siblings, and had been nothing but kind, but he had this way of staring down his long nose at her that made her feel so much like dirt on the bottom of a shoe. She felt as if she were twelve again, back in the Nuruodo house barely tolerating her aunts’ pinching fingers, and their shrill laughter, as they commented how even with her rank, no one would willingly choose her. 

Hellan straightened. She pulled in a deep breath and wiped her eyes. She couldn’t be like this, particularly if one of the kids happened to walk in. She let the solid wall of her ship hold her up for just a moment longer, and then she pulled herself back together and headed back down the ramp. Oba’s voice carried over from where she stood next to Mitth’raw, shyly taking around her hand.

"Are you going to show us the gifts you brought us?"

"Oba! Not everything affords a gift! When did you become so greedy?"

Oba winced and curled in on herself. Hellan cursed under her breath. Her eyes burned and she resisted the urge to dig the heels of her palms into them. Instead, she walked over and knelt in front of her sister and took her hands. 

“I’m sorry Oba. I shouldn’t have used that tone with you when you did nothing wrong. Have you looked up the constellations for tonight?”

Oba nodded. 

“That’s my girl.” She glanced over to where Alir was unloading Mitth’raw’s speeder. “Do you want to confirm I input the right coordinates in the telescope?” Hellan knew she had input the correct ones, but it would redirect Oba from what happened on to something that made her feel useful. 

She noticed Mitth’raw watching their interaction out of the corner of his eye. He gave the stew  in front of him a last, vigorous stir, then leaned the ladle against the pot. Turning towards her with a raised eyebrow, he reached up and fiddled with the zipper on his jacket. He pulled down the zipper in such a slow methodical way, that he had to be teasing her. Hellan felt her breath catch, and looked anywhere but at him, her face turning an embarrassing shade of lilac. After a few moments, she worked up the courage to glance up at him again. He had shrugged off his jacket and underneath he had…  _ What in the galaxy is that? _ She fought the urge to laugh. 

Mitth’raw offered her a small smile. “I thought the children might like the bright colors,” he said straightening his rainbow striped sweater. He looked down at the giant ysalamiri patch on the front. “Oba likes animals. And it is very soft; good for receiving hugs.”

“That seems like solid reasoning.”

He seemed to approve of that answer and turned back to the fire to portion out their dinner.

She corraled the children on to the platform of sleeping bags piled high with blankets and pillows, then brought over thermoses of warm cider and chocolate. She passed out mugs and bowls of soup. With Mitth’raw’s appearance they were short a bowl, and she didn’t really feel like trudging into the ship to scrounge around. She could wait until one of them were done. 

And of course, without fail, Mitth’raw managed to spot her without food, and scowled. He opened his mouth to say something.

“I saw one!” Yuri exclaimed pointing towards the sky. 

“It’s possible,” Hellan said quickly, as she tried to avoid the criticism he was bound to throw her way. “Let’s finish as fast as we can and get this cleaned up so we can teach Mitth’raw about the stars.”

The kids scrambled up, collecting dishes while she left Api bouncing up and down on Mitth’raw’s lap. He did not look pleased. 

“All right,” Hellan said, when they had all resettled. “Who wants to show Mitth'raw how to determine the distances between stars?" 

“You hold your hand like this,” Elena said, shoving her fist in Mitth’raw’s face. “And stick your arm all the way out and close one eye. “That’s ten degrees.”

Yuri was next, and thrust his fingers toward Mitth’raw with such force, they almost ended up in the poor man’s nose. “This is twenty-five,” Yuri exclaimed, holding up his fist with thumb and pinky extended.

Hellan had to give Mitth’raw credit. He sat through all of the intense violation of personal space with aplomb, asking the children questions and asking them to demonstrate further. It wasn’t until Api started fussing that she changed the subject. 

“All right,” Hellan said, as the last colors faded in the sky. “What are we watching today?”

“Meteors!”

“And planets!” added Oba. “That’s what the telescope is for!”

Hellan pulled her sister close and dropped a kiss on the top of her head. “You’re right. You helped set up the telescope for that. But can’t we see that any time?”

“No! Sometimes it’s below the horizon.”

“And it’s super close so it’s really big now.”

Hellan nodded. “Yes. It’s the closest it’s been in a while. Why else is it a good night to come out tonight?”

“It’s dark cuz the moon is super small.”

“Not because it’s small, Elena, because it’s phase,” Oba drawled in the most pedantic tone a five year old could muster.

Elena rolled her eyes. “You know what I meant.”

“Okay,” Hellan replied. “What are these meteors called?”

“The Warrior’s Arrows!”

“So what does that mean? Where in the sky are they going to be?”

“In The Warrior!”

“Who wants to show Mitth’raw how to find The Warrior?”

The children once again swarmed him, as they showed Mitth’raw how he could use the other stars, the fixed ones, to find The Warrior. Not that it was necessary, The Warrior was one of the most easily recognizable constellations in the Coperan sky. 

It was so different sitting here, watching planetside. In space, with no atmosphere to block the infrared rays the sky took on a different appearance; the supposed vacuum around them filled with swirling patterns of interstellar heat.  It didn't make planetside watching any less exciting. The history of their people, the Coperans, their stories, their traditions, and their hearts were written in the lines of stars. Yes, their people had originally come from Csilla where stars held no power, but here on a planet open to the sky, things were different. She was the descendant of those first Chiss, who blinked and stepped into the light away from the confining underground caverns of Csilla thousands of years ago. In the name of The Voyager, they had shot out into space, colonizing the uninhabited planet of Copero, just as mesmerized by The Twin Rivers, the arms of the galaxy, winding their way across the night sky, as any primitive peoples from hundreds of millenia before.

Every planet had its own history. On Sarvachi they told stories from the dark spaces between the lines, taken from the natives of that planet, although the Chiss who lived there, particularly the Chaf would never admit to it.  

Of course, one of the first constellations the Coperans had noticed had been The Warrior. The Warrior was paramount to Chiss culture in general. Bravery, honor, courage, determination, fierceness. These had been the qualities cherished throughout the years. They had once upon a time, been a conquering empire, invading planet after planet and naming it for their own. They had picked the constellation with some of the brightest stars, the foot a blazing blue-white supergiant, the shoulder a glowing red monstrosity. The belt and sword nurseries, the future birthplace for dozens of stars and future stories. 

But the Coperans, for all their stance on powerful military and the shipyards, had chosen The Voyager as their patron. There was a reason so many _ ozyly-esehembo _ had been born here.  _ Blessings, _ people said.

Hellan took a deep breath. It was time.  

She reached in the bag next to her and took out their family box. She held it up. "Alir, do you want to do it? Elena?"

Elena shook her head, but Alir shuffled forward. "Yuri, do you want to help me this time?"

Her young brother's face bobbed up and down in excitement as he knelt next to Alir. Her sibling  gingerly opened the box and removed a long thin box that lay inside, and placed it in Yuri’s chubby palm.

"You get to pick the ones for Mama and Baba," Alir instructed their younger brother.  

Yuri cradled the box lovingly in his hands, his stubby fingers traced the patterns of their family and clan sigil engraved in the old wood. He flipped open the latch, and the air was filled with a myriad of scents: waterlogged sequoia and moss, salt-crusted stones at low tide, the sharp unmistakable tang of ancient ice, and the smells of sand and ash. Tiny bits of their worlds cradled in this box. 

She glanced over at Thrawn who was watching their little ceremony with interest. He was a commoner and from Csilla. The people on Csilla, on the whole, tended to be less focused on traditional rites unless they were very ostentatious and held in state. In contrast, the Coperans still held on to the small pre-ascendancy rituals. She knew rather little about commoner customs whether on this planet or his and wondered if they had any traditions for honoring the dead like this.

Yuri picked a Red optiscent for their mother and light green for their father, and placed them in the holder.

“Now, which one to offer respects to Nuruodo?” Alir quizzed.

Yuri didn’t hesitate and picked up a dark green that smelled of pine and fresh snow. Nuruodo meant “Mountain dweller” in the old Coperan dialect so that made perfect sense. Hellan beamed. 

“And for Mitth?”

“That’s easy! The burgundy.”

Alir smiled at Yuri and took both out of the box and placed each in their respective holders. Then took out another strand optiscent, this one blue, and set it in the holder next to their mother and father’s. 

“All right, is everyone ready?”

Hellan spoke. “One moment, Yuri. May I have the box please?”

Alir looked at her in confusion, but handed over the box. 

Hadn't Mitth’raw said both his parents were dead too? They were not part of the Mitth family, and neither, but by the merest of technicalities was he, but they would have been her in-laws if this all went according to plan. His mother would helped dress Hellan on her wedding day and taught her the traditions from Mitth’raw's family that would bind them together. Now, neither of their mothers would. 

The last thing Hellan wanted to do was disrespect the memories of her future in-laws.  _ Potential future in-laws _ , she reminded herself.

Now what would have Raw’s parents been like? It didn’t have to be literal. Just something symbolic. Did they sing lullabies to him as a child? Run after him playing tag?

She remembered that he liked sweets, particularly the berry ice cream, he loved so much and bought on every occasion they had met at the park, or the cookies that she was pretty sure weren't 100% Oba's idea.

And what about his father? She thought of Thrawn beside her in bed at night. His colorful sweater. Perhaps they had been a family of soft, loving men. Playful men. Considerate. Honorable. 

“Do you think these will suit?” she asked him picking up two out of the box. “For your parents?”

He blinked at her. He held out his hands and she placed the two sticks optiscent in them, he cradled them as if he were holding priceless artifacts.

“You... wish to include them?” 

“I’m sorry. Did I offend you? I didn’t mean…”

“No. You did not. The opposite in fact. I just thought this was for your family.”

“It is.”

He stared at her for a long moment, then looked down again. He brought them close to his face to smell. Then smiled. It was an expression that took up his entire face and seeped into the air around him, unfettered and almost silly. He extended his arms, giving them back to her. “Yes, they are perfect.”

She grinned back at him for a long moment, captivated.  

Alir cleared their throat.

“Oh. Yes,” Hellan said, turning back to the box, a blush staining her cheeks. She placed them on the other side from her parents. Then sat back. “All right, Alir.”

Usually this type of ceremony should be done in the common area of a house or a compound, growing up they had really never had a stable home. Besides the optoscent usually would make the air on the ship unbreathable. No. Her parents and sister belonged here on their rare getaways among the stars, the memories of them accompanied by the mountain air and the song of leaves.    
  
"I'll go first," Alir said as he switched on the box. "Tummy tickles!"   
  
"No! Not tickles!" screeched Yuri, knowing that he would be the first victim of their father’s legacy.    
  
Alir dove at him. Then chased after the others, tackling them and tickling them mercilessly, even managing to get Api giggling. The older children took turns listing their favorite things about their parents, acting out what scant memories they had, Hellan joining in where they faltered.   


While Elena and Oba performed a memory that existed more from Hellan’s stories than anything else, Mitth’raw moved to sit next to her. "You do not do this like other families. You do things differently."   
  
"What do they do on Csilla?"   
  
"They do not have any small ceremonies on Csilla, but my brother in law has a.... similar tradition performed during Remembrance Day, only it was very solemn affair which consisted  of reading from Mshpa'rok'than's  _ Lamentations _ ."   
  
Hellan grimaced. "That sounds miserable. I... We prefer... Death is horrible enough. Life comes with enough sorrow, I want to remember the good things about the people I love. And for the ones still alive, I want to share happiness with them, not despair."

With that, the scents in the air faded, the light dimming, leaving them with only the children’s exclamations as they watched shooting stars streak across the sky. 

Hellan wasn’t really paying attention to those, instead she turned her head to the left. There, right there, five degrees North of the third star of The Voyager’s crown, but light-years away, was where Mitth’orizo’nuruodo, her younger sister, had died.  

They had only been born a year apart, and had spent most of their time together watching the sky and imagining the adventures they would have together. Horizon had been everything Hellan had not been: healthy, beautiful, an  _ ozyly-esehembo _ like both their parents; the successful result of breeding, where as the most that could be hoped for Hellan was that she carried on the proper genetic material on to whatever offspring she was unlikely to have. Horizon had been six when the sight in her had been discovered. There had been a week of celebrations, followed by a week of tears after they had taken her away. 

As a member of the Mitth family she did not serve on a military vessel, but on one of the Aristocras’ personal ships. She was safe there from any of the rare skirmishes that happened along their borders. Safe from outsiders, perhaps, but Chiss seemed to forget one thing.

_ Ozyly-esehembo _ were children. And children, as by now Hellan was quite aware, made mistakes.

Yuri had just been born when they received the news. The ship had been pulled out of hyperspace by a gravitational anomaly. Everyone on board had died. The Hitonu clan had almost sought blood retribution for the loss of their people.

Every night when she lay in bed, Hellan swore she wouldn’t let any of her other siblings die for Aristocra curiosity.  She had chosen her calling in the first years of her existence, but this had cemented it. In her first independent study she charted the coordinates where her sister had died and had taken years of tedious readings, stayed up late into the night scribbling numerous calculations trying to find the culprit: a dark star, whose tendrils of cold hydrogen and neutralinos had annihilated her little sister on contact.

She had discovered others. Bundles of micro black holes. Had plotted possible hyperspace routes. Even after her funding had been denied, she had flown out herself to take measurements. The Aristocras had taken her information with scant interest. The  _ ozyly-esehembo _ were how navigation was done. She should stick to verifying their findings as others in her field did. 

As the years went by, and her parents were encouraged by the family to have more and more children, she lived in terror of the possibility of the third sight appearing and losing another younger sibling.

Surprisingly, it was her parents she lost next, to piracy.

They were still a problem on the outskirts. She had to be aware of the risky areas and took care to avoid them. Slavers and pirates littered certain areas of space, claiming them as hunting grounds. Because of the kids she made sure never to travel anywhere too risky, but in her academic days had been more adventurous. Her parents had been adventurous too, used to military and ship life and traveling into unknown spaces. 

Granted, Hellan often engaged in activities that weren't exactly legal.... but she maintained proximity to the suzerains under the protection of the Ascendancy. It had been a rare occurrence, but now there were more and more reports of trading vessels being attacked by independent ships. 

Merchant trading was considered a lowly profession, undeserving of respect, but there were limited professions available to former  _ ozyly-esehembo _ . They spent most of their early years navigating ships. Upon adulthood most of them re-joined the military, missing the structure and unconnected to their birth families, or if lucky, married into a Family as breeders. Both her parents had been born into the Mitth family. Even though she felt no affiliation with her blood relatives, her "good stock" protected her from some of the more heinous things that could happen to unprotected family members.

_ I could have ended up a servant to  _ _ Mitth’amu’nuruodo _ , she thought with a shudder.

She stood and crossed to the telescope. 

"Would you like to see?" Hellan asked Mitth’raw. He immediately stood up and joined her. His arm brushed hers as he positioned himself.

Mitth'raw bent his head to peer into the telescope. She knew what he would see, a ball of ice, a pair of rings. 

He raised his head. "It is Csilla, correct?"

"Yes," she replied with a smile. "Odd to see your home from so far away, huh?"

"In a way. What made you choose this planet?"

"It's particularly close and bright at the moment,” Hellan shrugged. “It's a good night. Lots of astronomical objects to look at. I could change to another if you’d like.”  

“I want to see!” Elena shouted. She stood up from where she had been stretched out between Alir and Yuri and scrambled over to them, standing up on her toes to carefully peer through the scope. “Wow. It even  _ looks _ cold!”

Yuri stood and ran to stand beside his sister. He grabbed her shoulder and tugged. “Let me see!”

"Stop pushing!" Elena snapped, but she relented and stepped to the side so Yuri take a look. He pressed his eye to the scope and frowned.

"I can't see anything! Elena you knocked it out of calibration!"

"Did not!"

"Enough," Hellan chastised. "Step back and let me see."

Yuri moved out of the way. As he did, he rammed his shoulder into Elena, knocking her back a couple of steps. With an indignant shout, Elena stepped forward and shoved him hard. Yuri staggered right into the tripod and the telescope tipped. It hit the ground with a sickening crunch. Both children froze and fell silent. Hellan didn’t respond for a moment. She stared at it, something tightening in her throat. The telescope had been a hold over from her years studying. If something had broken, she would never be able to manage a replacement. She took a deep breath and crouched down to pick it up.

Mitth'raw helped her right it. Her lips pressed into a thin line.

"I'm sorry," Elena cried. 

Tears streamed down Yuri's face. 

"It's all right," Hellan said, her voice a little hollow. The lens was broken. She forced herself to close her eyes and count to ten.

"Look what you guys did! I wanted to look too and now I can't!" exclaimed Oba.

"Sorry Hellan,” Yuri said in a choked whisper.

"Perhaps,” said Mitth’raw herding the children towards the sleeping bags, “we should settle down and get prepared to count the rest of the shooting stars."

She was thankful for that. He was always so calm, granted most Chiss had mastered that skill by adulthood. Hellan had never been able to retain that level of control, and at the rate she was going, it looked like she wasn't setting a good example for her siblings.

Api was already dozing by the time she had calmed herself enough to rejoin them. She covered him with a blanket and kissed his hair. Periodically the kids would shout "I see one!" "There's one!" and kept a count. Mitth'raw's soft voice joined theirs with questions and observations. 

It wasn’t long before the shouts started to dim, enthusiasm giving way to tired mumbles about a particularly bright star before finally folding into a peaceful quiet, only broken now and then by someone’s soft snoring.

Hellan glanced at Mitth’raw. She only wanted to get a glimpse of his profile in the night light, to see if she could determine what he was thinking. She thought he might be easier to read if he thought no one was looking. Instead, two red eyes caught her own in the darkness and suddenly she felt ridiculously exposed. Had he been staring at her? 

The moment stretched far into awkward territory before he finally gave himself a small shake and spoke. “I brought my sleeping bag, though I have no idea where it is at the moment.”

“I didn’t find a sleeping bag when I unpacked your speeder,”Alir said softly. They were the only one still awake, propped up on their elbows and watching the sky. They rolled over and stood. “It’s okay, I brought out the mattress. I put it over here.”

Alir walked them over, quite a bit away from the rest of the group. Behind a clump of dense foliage, Alir had set up their air mattress, complete with pillows and blankets.

"I'll take Api so you guys can share over here. Just... don't do any... stuff." From their tone and the strategically placed sleeping arrangements, Alir totally expected them to engage in at least mild "stuff."

Mitth’raw tilted his head in confusion. "You shouldn't be concerned. We have no interest in engaging in anything of that nature."

Of course he wouldn't. She didn't blame him. No one in their right mind would.  _ Unless it was to make her the butt of a joke. _

Alir looked incredulously from Mitth’raw, to Hellan, who was doing her best to keep her face blank, then back to Thrawn, and scowled. They opened their mouth to say something, and from the twist of their lips it was going to be something particularly nasty, but Hellan put on her best ‘Don't be rude’ face and raised her eyebrow. 

"Fine," they bit out. They proceeded to stomp back to the main area and slam everything they possibly could, waking up Yuri, who started yelling and Api who started crying. 

She started to go after them, but Mitth’raw put a hand on her arm. His expression was still confused, but more pensive. "Leave them be. I don't know what the issue is, but they need to work it out on their own."

Hellan knew exactly what the issue was. Alir had always been observant for their age. When their parents had first passed, Hellan had come to live with the kids at the Nuruodo house while she had worked out custody of the children and the terms of her debt contract. Within two months they had been forced to move out. 

The Nuruodo weren’t known for their politeness, at least among family. Hellan had managed to redirect comments about Yuri and Elena's "excitability" as well as Oba's "freakishness" by making herself a target. Alir had been old enough to notice the sneers of Hellan's peers, made even worse by her new vulnerable position, but her precious guardian had been too young to understand Hellan's sacrifice. Instead of ignoring it, they fought back to the point where the family threatened to take Alir away if they got into any more physical altercations. 

So Hellan had taken the children and left. Which meant additional loss of status and a severe cut in her subsistence. Not the smartest thing financially, but the best for them. Hellan had to work three times as hard, but at least they were together and the younger ones were happy.

Somehow, even through that eagled eye gatekeeping, Mitth’raw had broken through Alir’s fortifications. He had been nothing but courteous and incredibly kind, which Alir had translated into some sort of affection, an affirmation that Mitth’raw was not like all the others. Yes Mitth’raw was different, but Alir was under the misapprehension that he would sweep Hellan off her feet like a character in a romantic holodrama.

Even someone as strong as Mitth'raw would probably hurt their back trying. Not that anyone would, even figuratively, she simply wasn't worth the effort. 

And she was okay with it. Really. She was. Because if she made this match, with a high ranking Syndic and an Aristocra as brothers-in-law, Alir and all of her other siblings could have the pick of whoever they wanted, or better yet, instead of bartering their hearts for a living, could refrain from marrying at all if they chose. 

So she would pretend it didn't sting now. She would pretend it didn’t hurt when he would take lovers, attractive, sophisticated lovers, after they were married. She would survive and deal with it, just like she had with everything else life had thrown her way. 

  
  


* * *

 

Hellan eased down next to him on to the mattress, and hooked her arms around her knees. She did not face him, but instead cocked her head backwards to look at the sky. Heat blazed off her body turning her into a miniature sun. She seemed embarrassed over Alir’s behavior, and forlorn after the incident with her telescope. In fact, except for those few moments, where they held each other’s eyes, she had been oddly distant.  

“Is astronomy a hobby you engage in frequently?” The answer was obvious based on the equipment she owned, but he wanted to take her mind off whatever she was worried about.  

“Not as much as I would like. I’ve always loved space,” she said. “I chose astrogational physics as my calling when I came of age....” Her sigh felt like the closing of a door. “Well that's over now.”

He remembered the sadness of the night fading as she watched the meteor shower. Starlight had bathed her face, and for a few scant minutes had chased away any remnant of worry from her features. There had only been the communion of her and the night sky. 

He had never seen anyone look at anything with that intensity of longing before.

“Why do you say that?”

“You know how it is Mitth'raw, they don't let you back once you give it up.” A silence longer than he liked filled the space between them. “I'm a trader now.” 

Hellan’s dream had been subsumed into the needs of the children after the catastrophe of her parents’ death. He already knew that she possessed several admirable qualities: a natural affinity for leadership, a wry sense of humor, and with the exception of tonight, a warm demeanor that even made someone as awkward as Raw instantaneously comfortable, but to even be allowed to choose that calling meant her mind was more superlative than he ever would have supposed. Chiss understanding of the galaxy outside their domain was minute at best, and the rarity of the _ozyly-esehembo_ , made her former field an important and strategic area of study. He would never begrudge her the children, but to him it seemed like a tragedy both for her and their people. 

_ What other dreams have been taken from you? What can I do to give them back? _

“I don’t let it stop me though,” she continued. “I mean it's probably not wise of me to tell a member of the CEDF that I have violated territorial boundaries in the name of science, but I think you're different.”

Once again, Mitth’raw found himself caught up. For the first time he thought perhaps he understood why. So much of Hellan’s identity, her entire life, was an intricate design of misdirections and reflections, layers painted over layers. The children, her ship, her career… they were all the bright colors she mixed and used to draw attention away from the faded, chipped bottom layer lurking in the corners and around the edges. But every now and then, that bottom layer ruptured through all those colors. The effect was brilliant and somewhat disorienting. A masterpiece lingered behind that facade; he wanted to see it all.   

Warmth spread through his body and he realized he was leaning towards her like a planet revolving around a star.

"You suppose correctly. I too have been outside the boundaries strictly enforced by the Chiss.”

“But you're CEDF, that's your job.” 

“No, even those boundaries.”

She gasped. "Mitth'raw..." It was not said with censure, but with envy tangential to awe. 

The warmth remained. If anything it burned brighter. He felt himself falling, falling towards her, igniting just as the meteoroids had earlier that evening as they had entered the atmosphere. He pulled himself back at the last minute and shivered.  

There was a hitch in Hellan’s breathing. Then another long silence. “I’m tired,” she murmured. Her heat signature still blazed beside him, but her voice felt distant and dull. She stretched her legs and laid on her side, her body curled away from him. “Good night.”

Mitth’raw stared at the trembling crescent of her back a few inches away, so close and yet, in that moment, unreachable. He sank down on to the mattress, leaving the space between them. He could not rid himself of the feeling that something had frayed, and he fervently wished he understood what it was. He remembered her expression as he had greeted her. It had been like being greeted by a stranger. It had been a mistake coming, she had been stressed and unwell when he arrived, and somehow he had only seemed to add to her burden.

Or even worse, perhaps Thrass was right, and everything had been a mistake after all. 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For sweater inspiration google "Jeff Goldblum Gucci sweater"


End file.
